


Sometimes We Win, Sometimes We Lose

by PoorReputation



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Before Dean goes to the AU by himself, Body Horror, Canon Divergance, Depression, Excessive use of ABBA, F/F, Gore, Horror, M/M, MCD refers to Kaia, Mentions of 9X03, PTSD, Takes place after Cas escapes Asmodeus, Team Free Will, Wayward Sisters, human!Cas, s13
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-06-13 20:05:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15372318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoorReputation/pseuds/PoorReputation
Summary: On a hunt gone wrong, Castiel is left Graceless and Human, separated from the Winchesters. Claire comes to his aid, and soon the pair team up to find his Grace. The two set off on an ABBA sound-tracked, Dad-joke filled road trip, in the hopes of finding Castiel's Grace before Claire strangles him.





	1. Chapter One

 

 

**CHAPTER ONE**

 

 

  There are two soft knocks at the door. Claire, deeply involved in an article about a suspected haunting, barely blinks as she replies, "Come in."

   
  With a twist of the knob, Patience enters. "Jody says supper's ready." the teenager replies. 

  
  "Take-out?" Claire asks, closing her laptop. She moves it from her stomach, setting it aside as she sits up on her bed.

  
  "Yep, pizza and pasta." she smiles. She's in one of her "I'm well-off and chic" outfits, taking a look around the room. "Wow, the storage closet's a lot roomier than I thought."

  
  Claire stares back at her, her jaw dropping in surprise. Patience stares back for a beat, working over the words in her mind. The realization leaves behind an expression that almost makes it all worth it.

   
  "It was my room first." is all Claire says.

  
  "I am so sorry." Patience, covers her mouth, eyes wide, "I didn't mean to-"

  
  "I know."

  
  "It's just so spacious!" 

  
  "I can tell."

  
  "And dust-free, and all the shelves are gone, and-uh, yeah, so's that- nest of spiders-"

  
  "Oh, that's still here."

  
  Now it's Patience's turn to stare, only now with a note of disgust on her face.

   
  "I'm kidding." the blond replies dryly. She tries to hide her smile as she stands, not caring as chip crumbs slide off her grey hoodie, "And, yeah, it is kinda 'spacious', but I don't have that much stuff to begin with."

  
  "What, no posters, photos, or keepsakes?" the teen eyes at the single bed and plain walls, eventually landing on the overstuffed duffel in the corner. "Or, have you just not unpacked?"

  
  "Most of what I own is for hunting." Claire shrugs, "It's all gotta fit in the back of my car, so I travel light."

  
  "Right." Patience nods, stepping over towards the open bag, "Only the essentials." she snatches a piece of dark-brown fluff from the opening, lifting it up to reveal a cat plushie.

  
  Claire frowns, matching the expression of the Grumpy Cat toy, "Don't touch that." she crosses over into the other girl's personal space, half-expecting her to flinch, or pull away. When she's able to easily grab the toy, she's taken aback by the lack of resistance. Claire readies a snarky comeback about being all bark and no bite, looking up to give the younger girl her best sneer.  
She's met with wide eyes, staring blankly through her.

  
  Claire's seen that look before on many a psychic before. The memory makes her blood chill.

  
  "Patience?" she quietly asks.

  
  The girl blinks out of her trance, eyes widening with horror.

  
  "What did you see?" Claire asks.

  
  "My vision." She slowly, shakily says, "I saw Dean." Looking like she's about to pass out, Claire leads the girl to sit on her bed. Without prompting, she continues, "He had this guy against a wall. I-I think they were fighting, I just saw the shove. The guy, he... had an Angel blade."

  
  "Was Dean hurt?"

  
  "No, not that I could see."

  
  "I'll give Dean a call. Can you tell me what the other guy looked like?"

  
  Patience swallows, pinching her eyes closed, "White, dark hair, he, uh, had a coat. Really long, and tan."

  
  Claire pauses, her hand hovering over the jean pocket she kept her cell, "You mean like an overcoat?"

  
  Patience's brows furrow in confusion. "Yeah." As Claire reaches into a different pocket, she asks, "Of everything I said, why did you focus on that?"

  
  Claire ignores her, pulling out her wallet. She opens it, finding what she's looking for on reflex, "Did he look like this?" she presents a photo half-covered with her hand.

  The teen's mouth hangs open in shock, "Yes! That's him!"

  "His name's Castiel." Claire explains, carefully slipping the photo back into its proper place, "He's a friend of Sam and Dean's."

  "But it looked like they were having a fight." Patience says, "I know what I see isn't always exact, but Dean looked pissed."

  "Let's see." Claire pulls out her phone, finding and tapping Dean's name. She puts the call on speaker, waiting for it to connect. The dial tone fills the room, the sound eerily bouncing off the mostly empty surfaces. A few seconds later, it changes to the beeps of the line being busy. The girls look back at each other, both thinking the worst.

  "Sam?" Patience quietly suggests.

  
  Claire ends the first call, trying again with the younger brother's number. This one seems to take even longer to connect, leaving her stomach in knots. The tension releases as a voice answers.

  "Hello?" comes Sam's familiar voice.

  "Sam, it's Claire. Is your brother around?"

  Patience adds, "We just tried to get a hold of him, but he didn't answer."

  "Uh, yeah, he's trying to call Cas." Claire could practically hear the man rubbing his forehead. "Bad timing, I guess."

  "Tell him Patience had a vision with him and Castiel."

  "Just now?"

  "Yeah."  
 

  The line goes quiet for a moment. Claire stares back at Patience, who looks more distraught with every passing minute. Claire rubs the girl's arm, not entirely convinced it'll help, but it's better than nothing.

  "There's been an incident." Sam breathes out, "We're on this hunt, looking for a Witch; she found us first, and banished Cas."

  "Banished?" Patience mouths. Claire holds up her hand, hoping the teen wouldn't take any offense to it.

  "So, Dean's calling to find him?" the blond asks.

  "That's the thing, after the first spell, the Witch performed another one. An... exorcism."

  "She can do that?" 

  "Kinda. It killed her in the process."  
 

  Patience breathes out a sigh of relief, "That's it."

  "What is?" Sam and Claire ask in unison.

  "My visions always precede death." she explains, "I only saw Dean and Castiel, but it didn't guarantee they would die, sorta like last time-"

  "So, Castiel is probably okay." Claire cuts her off. Patience sends her a questioning look, but the other girl doesn't meet it.

  "I hope so." Sam mutters. There's talking in the background, all present pausing to listen in. "Did y'all catch that?" he asks.

  "Nah." Patience replies.

  "Dean says he was able to reach Cas. He's alright."

  Claire's shoulders visibly slump in relief, "Cool. Good to know."

  "Wait," the teen interrupts, "It's a weird question, but... did Dean shove Castiel up against a wall at any point?"  
 

  Sam audibly clears his throat, "Uh, heh, well. That's... it's kinda their thing."

  "Oh."

  Sam hurriedly changes the subject, "Dean's tracing his cell as we speak. We, uh, don't know where he landed." The sound of scratching comes through the speakers, ""If we need it, do y'all mind helping to pick Cas up?"

  "Where are you guys now?" 

  "New Jersey." another beat of silence, ending with Sam letting out a short laugh, "Guess where he landed?" 

  "State with legalized pot?" Patience shoots Claire a bemused look. "Hey, if you'd met him, you'd hope so, too."

  "Nah," Sam chuckles, "50 miles east of you guys." 

  "Huh." Patience nods, "Lucky."

  "We'll get with Jody. Text me any specifics you've got."  
 

  "Thanks so much, guys."

 

 

  The two girls rush to the kitchen, where Jody is setting out three sets of dishware.

  "Supper's here." she smiles, only for it to falter at the site of them. "What's wrong?"

  Claire proceeds to fill her in on Patience's vision, the phone call, and their impromptu rescue mission, all between bites of supreme pizza. 

  "Yeah, we can help." Jody turns to head to her room, "Let me grab my keys and bag. We'll take my SUV."

  After Claire's rushed second slice, she goes back to grab her hunting gear. She pauses to pick the cat plushie off the ground, gingerly placing it in a pocket in her duffel. The blond returns to the living room to see Jody ready to go, talking to Patience.

  "Emergency numbers are on the fridge. Alex will be off at 10. Donna's a bit far away, but she's great back-up. Silver, salt, iron, and other supplies are in my bedroom, in the closet on the left. Call if you need anything."

  "Okay."

  With a reassuring pat of the shoulder, Jody turns to Claire, who's phone beeps with a message. Claire reads the text from Sam, "FYI, Cas is human." Another beep. "Bring snacks."

  "What was he before?" Patience asks.

  "An Angel." she answers, digging through the cabinets for a half-full package of Poptarts. She stares at it, wondering if Castiel would be picky about blueberry? Was he allergic to any of the ingredients?  
 

  "An Angel." she echoes, "First a Nephilim, the son of the devil himself, and now an _Angel."_

  "Never a dull moment." Jody purses her lips, grabbing several bottles of water. She eyes Claire expectantly, "I'm sure you'll fill me in, in the car."

  Claire found it interesting that Jody just accepted that Claire was coming along; no 'holding down the fort', or 'you're too close to this', which Claire wouldn't even have to admit out loud, Jody can just _tell_. No, she's just... okay with it.

  Which means Claire's in for a mini interrogation.

  Grabbing a few gluten-free protein bars, just in case, the two head out the door. With one last glance and a wave to Patience, the two head for Jody's SUV.

 

  
  Sam waits patiently, the phone resting in front of him on the table. He and Dean had headed back to the motel, deciding there was nothing left to do but call for help.

  On the other end, coming through on speaker, Rowena spoke. "Alright, I think I've found the spell to track Tweety's Grace."

  Dean, who had been pacing a line from the grimy mini fridge to their room's front door, shot an angry look at the phone. "Took you long enough."

  "Pardon me," Rowena stressed, evoking from memory one of her many exasperated eye-rolls, "but that's what happens when I have no physical anchor to work with. Basic spells won't do. Now, if the two of you gave me what I need in person-"

  "We don't have the time." Sam gently says before Dean can intervene, "And we're grateful for whatever you've got."

  "That's more like it." she practically beams over the line, "I knew you'd be on my side, Samuel."

  "Get on with it." Dean all but barks, rooted to the spot, arms crossed.

  "I shall conjure an image of your wee feathered friend, fixate on it, and search for any non-human energies."

  "Non-human?" Dean snarks.

  "I'm sorry, I'm sure you prefer Eldritch horror, right Deanie boy?"

  "That's all you need?" Sam presses, hoping Dean would just back down.

  "Well, if you want my shopping list to reimburse me for my troubles, sure. First, the charred femur-"

  "Nah, we're good." He quickly says, "We don't need those details. It works, it works."

  The witch gives a happy little "Hmph!" and clears her throat, "Now, to conjure an image of Tweety. Best part of the spell, if I'm being honest."

  Dean gives his own "Hmph!", and it's somehow more adorable than Rowena's. Sam schools his features, and says, remaining as neutral as possible, "Go on, we're on a time crunch."

  Silence ensues, as the brothers wait for news. After a few minutes, Rowena speaks.

  "It's not working."

  Dean lets out an audible breath, and Sam tries to stop any potential tirades, "So, you'll try something else? Or, we can get you some of Cas' hair, or whatever-"

  "That's a terrible idea!" Dean yells, "Are you kidding me? Like she's not gonna use that to blackmail us down the line!"  
 

  "If you would shut yer trap for just a moment, I'll tell you what's wrong." Rowena spits.

  Sam shoots Dean a look, giving him the non-verbal command to fuck off. Dean resorts to pacing that same line into the carpet as before.

  "The spell worked just fine." she begins, "All went exactly as it should. I searched for Castiel's Grace, and found not a trace."

  "It's gone?" Sam pales, already thinking another Angel has gotten to it.

  "No; it's cloaked. By a spell." Her voice becomes clearer as Sam assumes Rowena's brought the phone closer to her, "What other witches have you angered, boys?"

  Sam sighs; he was hoping to spare the details, "This last hunt, we'd started out in NYC. There'd been a number of unusual deaths up there over the past few months. We figured out it was something witchy, and connected it to deaths in Buffalo, then New Jersey, and it continued down the East coast."

  "Bitch had operations going in every major city, using spells, curses, hex bags and other crap to swindle people out of their money." Dean chimed in. "Those that got pissed got dead."

  "We were able to track her, so we decided to take her out." Sam finished.

  "Let me guess," Rowena deadpanned, "she found you first."

  "Yeah." Sam sheepishly replied.

  "Who's the Witch?"

  "Her name is Aurora." he replied, "Couldn't find much on her."

  There was silence on the other end.

  "Rowena? You still there?"

  "I've heard of her." she says tightly.

  "And?" Dean retorts, impatient.

  "Let's just say the one time I met Aurora, I gave her an alias."

  "To use?" asks Sam.

  "For myself." she answered, "Along with a blocking spell, and an unfortunate dye-job."

  "Alright, and when was this?" Dean asks, leaning on the table.

  "1972. Boys, she's been at this longer than the two of you have been alive." She gives a bitter laugh, "Honestly, your Angel got lucky. Aurora tends to take care of threats on the spot. Any idea why she spared him?"

  "You call banishing him and taking his Grace 'sparing'?" Sam raises a brow. He braces himself for more yelling on his brother's end, and is surprised at Dean's comparatively muted reply.

  "She wanted to strike a deal, and used Cas as leverage." Dean clenches his jaw, "I said no way, and, she- she sent him away. Gave me another shot, and then took his powers."

  "And then she died." Sam added, wanting to give Dean a moment.

  "Died? You mean you didn't kill her?" Rowena asks.

  "Yeah, we guess she stretched herself too thin performing the exorcism. She got really weak and collapsed. By the time we got to her, her body was... decomposing." Sam grimaces at the memory.

  Rowena doesn't even attempt to hold back her laughter, "And you really bought that?" 

  "We were busy-"

  Dean suddenly pushes himself off the table, causing it to wobble. Sam steadies it, then looks back at his brother, who's taking out his phone. 

  "What are you doing?" 

  "Calling in favors." Dean spits, "Bitch ain't gonna get away with this."

  Rowena chimes-in on the other end, "Don't do anything stupid, deary."

  "Shut up." 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jody pick up Castiel. We catch up with Dean.

 

 

  The first hour passes by pretty uneventfully. Sam sends Claire the exact coordinates of Castiel's location, traffic is surprisingly mild for a Saturday night, and Jody spends the first 45 minutes finding the right exit off the highway. After taking it, Jody assures her it's just a straight shot to the farm the former Angel landed in.

  
  The night is predictably cooler than earlier, but still very humid. The car's A/C is on full bast, making any potential for conversation difficult. However, it doesn't stop Jody from trying.  
"So," the older woman starts, her voice muffled by the air, "tell me about this Castiel."

  
  "What do you need to know?" Claire asks, wondering if Jody could even hear her response.

  
  Jody lowers the fans speed, following up her question, "What's he look like, act like. Sam and Dean may have given their seal of approval, and we'll test him, as usual, but, if something happens, and we get separated, I wanna make sure what you say about him matches what he does."

  
  "Alright." the blond mutters. Fishing for her wallet, she pulls out the photo she showed Patience earlier. Once more, she covers the half showing her Mom with her hand, knowing Jody won't take her own hands off the wheel for a closer look.

  
  With a glance from the road, to the picture, and back to the road again, Jody asks, "Is it recent?"

  
  "About a decade old," Claire admits, "but, he hasn't changed much."

  
  "Angel thing?"

  "Yeah."

  "How does an Angel act?"

  Claire laughs, "Not like him." she breathes in deeply, "Dean told me most Angels are dicks with wings. I thought Castiel fit that to a tee the first time I met him. And then, years later, I realized I was wrong. Or, at the least, he'd changed."

  "How long's it been since you last saw him?"  
 

  "Three, four years?"

  "Did it end well?"

  "I think so."  
 

  "But you're not certain."

  Claire looks over at Jody, who's at complete ease behind the wheel. This is the first hunting-related job she's let her come on with in months, not since Kaia. If Claire isn't honest, the older woman will see right through, and then they'll be back at square one.

  "He knew my parents." There's a softening in Jody's face at this, "And when I lost them, he held himself responsible. He tried to make up for it by getting me out of Foster care. He saw I was in a really bad place, and... wanted to be a mentor of sorts. Sorta like you."

  "And?" Jody asks gently.

  Claire looks out her window, eyes catching on the dark silhouettes of trees passing in the moonlight. "I left. I didn't wanna be around anyone at that point, much less him. Other than that, we parted on good terms."

  Her cell beeps, with Claire unlocking the screen to see the message.

**Pat: Got a sec?**

  Claire sends back a quick **Yes**. She looks over to see if Jody is waiting for her to keep talking, but the older woman seems willing to let the air between them settle, if only for a moment.

**Pat: You were mad earlier, bout my last vision.**

**Pat: I'm sorry for bringing her up.**

  Claire feels her throat tighten, but keeps her expressions neutral.

  **Me: no prob**

**Pat: Sam's calling. I'll get back to you later.**

**Me: ok**

  Setting her phone on her lap, Claire glances back over to Jody, who's on the brink of Mom-mode.

  "You know you don't owe him anything, right? Just because he got you out of the system doesn't mean you have to let him into your life."

  "I know." she says, barely above a whisper, "He hasn't talked to me, or tried, so I doubt he cares anymore."

  "Not too late to back out."

  "Nah, I'm good." she smiles in the side-view mirror, "God knows if he pisses me off, he'd have to answer to you."

  Jody snorts at that. They spend the rest of the trip in silence.

 

 

  The site of impact is unmistakable; patrol cars lined up on one side, fire engine blocking most of the two-lane country road. Jody flashes some credentials, and is given a clear path to proceed. Claire squints her eyes against the flashing red and blues, absolutely jarring in the pitch black night, and gapes at the small crater in the ground. Jody obviously spots it too, asking breathlessly, "He likes to make quite the entrance, doesn't he?"

  "Sounds about right." she mutters.

  About a mile down, on enough of a decline in the road to remain out of sight from the authorities, there he was, sitting on the edge of the crop field.

  Jody slows to a stop, and Claire can't help but note how much older he looks.

  Both exiting the car, Castiel makes no signs of movement. 

  "Castiel?" Jody asks, him responding with a nod.

  Turning to the blond, he simply says, "Hello Claire."

  "Hey yourself." she coolly replies.

  "I'm Sheriff Jody Mills, of Sioux Falls. Sam tell you we're picking you up?"

  "He did." Castiel glanced back at her. He was still on the ground, overcoat bundled around him. Claire half-wondered if he was hurt, and was just too numb to notice.

  Frowning, Jody tries to be a little warmer. "I'm not just a cop, but also a hunter. If you could get up so we can test you-"

  "Of course." Castiel gives a small nod, quickly getting to his feet. In a flash of fabric, he has out two Angel blades, extending the hilt of one to Jody, "After you."

  With a single nod, Jody forces down a grin, "The picture doesn't do you justice." She turns to Claire, whose face has turned into a grimace "This genuine?" she asks. Claire nods, knowing the look of the real thing after seeing so many cocky hunters produce fakes as trophies. Leveling with Castiel's gaze, Jody takes the small sword, rolling up her long sleeve, and making an incision. "Never dealt with Angels before. Only know that they use humans as vessels. So, forgive me for asking if this covers all the bases? Demons, Ghouls, Vamps, so on?"

  "That and more; an Angel blade can wound almost anything in creation." he replies, mimicking her actions. "Including other Angels."

  "Man upstairs gives you a weapon that can kill you, and you don't think that's strange?"

  "I'll ask him just that if I see him."

  Jody hands the weapon to Claire so she can demonstrate as well. After she's done, they hand the blade back over to Castiel, who's notably more relaxed. 

  "So," Jody claps her hands together, "Are we ready to head out?"

 

 

  Castiel makes for the backseat, only for Jody to politely ask him to sit upfront. Without hesitation, he does. Claire scoots to the back instead, reaching into her awaiting duffel bag. "I've got some snacks, if you're hungry." she offers to the man. He accepts the package of Poptarts, but doesn't move to open it. She shuffles around for a bottle of water, too, passing it upfront. This, Castiel does open, as he tries to politely guzzle down the entire bottle's contents. 

  Claire messages Sam as Jody starts the car.

**Me: sam, weve got cas. on the way 2 jody's**

  "So," she hears Jody ask Castiel, "How do you know Sam and Dean?"

  Her phone beeps with a text.

  **Sam: How's he doing?**

  Claire looks up to the front seat.

  "Well," the man begins, "I first met Dean when I rescued his soul from Hell, and Sam- well, that one's a little more complicated."

  Jody slowly turns her head, her eyes never too far from the road, "You mean actual Hell? And more complicated than that!?"

  "Shortly after I properly met Dean," he continues without missing a beat, "I was introduced to Sam. At the time, unfortunately, he was addicted to Demon blood, and had essentially made himself an abomination."

  "Really?"

  "Yes," he nods, "Though, I'm hardly one to judge. I mean, really, haven't we all been there?"

  "...No."

  Claire responds:

  **Me: spilling tea**

**Sam: Seriously, is he alright? D will kill me if I don't give an update**

**Me: hes fine hes just telling his backstory**

**Sam: Um, do I want to know?**

  "Despite the initial tensions between us," Castiel continues, "Sam is actually my closest brother, which in of itself is impressive, considering at one point I had thousands of siblings."

  "So," Claire butts in, "if Sam is your closest brother, what does that make Dean?"

  "My best friend." he turns to get a better look at her, "Why do you ask?"

  Claire types away at her phone, "Oh, I just heard wall shoving was your 'thing'."

  **Me: doesnt matter. i got him back 4 u ;)**

  She looks back up in time to see the blush spreading across Castiel's face, as he settles back into his seat.

  "I swear," Jody huffs, "Those boys don't tell me anything."

  Claire's phone beeps again:

  **Sam: Tried looking for Grace. We think it's blocked. Witch may still be alive.**

  "What the fuck?" Claire whispers. She gets ready to pass this message along, when Castiel asks Jody a question.

  "And how do you know Sam and Dean?"

  "We work the occasional case together," she says, "If they're close by, and happen to pop in while I'm working a job, they'd lend a helping hand. I return the favor when I can. In fact, just recently, me and the girls got them out of that other universe; The Bad Place."

  "That was you?" he asks, not even trying to hide his surprise.

  "They didn't tell you?" Jody's less stunned at this information, and more annoyed. 

  "More importantly," Claire says, momentarily forgetting Sam's message, "They didn't give us the credit we're due for saving their asses?"

  "We had the devil returning to our world, and saving their mother and Jack, to worry about." Castiel replies, "It's not really that surprising they would neglect to share something that isn't relevant to our current mission."

  Jody's starting to give the man some serious side-eye, so Claire interjects.

  "Sam just sent me a text. He says your Grace is blocked from them finding it, which means that the Witch may still be out there."

  "Does Patience know this?" Jody asks.

  "Second." Claire passes the question along to Sam. He answers right away. "He says yes, and that she hasn't gotten back to him, yet."

  "Who is this Patience?" Castiel asks.

  "Patience Turner. She's a psychic that also lives with Jody." Claire pauses, "And she may be having a meltdown as we speak."

  "Her visions always precede death," Jody explains, "and earlier, she had one of you and Dean. But, when Sam originally said the Witch was dead, Patience assumed that meant the two of you were safe. And now that we're no longer sure-" 

  "She's probably freaking out." Claire finishes, "It also means you'll probably want to stay with us tonight, to be on the safe side."

  "I doubt that's necessary." he insists, "Besides, if Aurora is that determined, my staying here will only put all of you in danger."

  "Woooow, you really are a Winchester." Jody says.

  "Look," the blond says, "I know I'm not the poster child for teamwork, but there's safety in numbers."

  "And if you, or your family, were to get hurt because of me, I wouldn't forgive myself."

  She gapes at this, "Are you fucking-"

  "Claire," Jody warns, "this is my car, and you will watch your mouth."

  "That's not even the point, Mom-"

  "Mom?" Castiel mouths, brows knit in confusion.

  "Listen!" Claire lowers her voice, "You're right, I want to keep my family safe. That includes you, numbskull."

  He stares back at her in shock, "I am?"

  "A numbskull?"

  "Family."  
 

  Claire blinks away surprise tears, rolling her eyes for good measure, "Yeah. God, you make it sound like you've never heard it before."

  "That's not true." he says defensively.

  Jody chimes in, "How about we get home, you get yourself a good meal, and then decide if you want to stay the night. Sound good?"

  Castiel looks between the two of them, as if he doesn't quite believe what he hears. He shrinks back in his seat, and starts fiddling with the foil of his Poptarts. For some reason, it hurts Claire's heart to watch.

  "Yes." is all he says.

 

 

  The first beer is thirty minutes after Sam falls asleep, and Dean doesn't. He leaves the motel room with bottle in hand. It's dark in the mostly empty parking lot. They're pretty far from the nearest highway, so there's barely any cars out on the road. 

  The second beer is by the trunk of the Impala, where Dean takes mental stock of their supplies from what he saw earlier that day.

  Seeing no one around, he risks opening her up to take a proper look. Dean spends the next fifteen minutes calculating every way available to kill a Witch. 

  Two hours after leaving the room, Dean's inside his car, nursing a third beer while in the driver's seat. That's when the calls start coming in. Delaware's the first location, a scam involving potions that offered 'ageless' benefits, literally and metaphorically burned to the ground.

  Hour three, and he feels a little restless. Side one of Led Zeppelin II isn't doing it for him tonight. The phone rings a second time. Virginia was the next to report in; love potion central is no more.

  Beer number four, and Dean starts thinking about the hunt. About what Cas said to him; how looking for the Witch at that moment was a bad idea, and they had no clue where she really was.

  He remembers the Angel Ishim saying that banishing Castiel when he was weakened might kill him. How when that bitch Aurora did it earlier, there was no warning. No bargaining. Cas hadn't used his powers at all that day, but he had been noticabely lower on mojo, lately. The second he disappeared, Dean thought that was it.

  A third call comes in. Dean blinks and then answers. Maine's charms of luck were locked in warded, industrial-sized safes, and placed in storage facilities so well organized, it would make John proud.

  Dean stays up until four in the morning, listening to reports from his fellow Hunters trickle in. It was the biggest non-apocalypse related favor he'd ever asked, and thankfully there were already several Hunter's working nearby. It would take some time, a month or two at this rate, but, alive or dead, Aurora's operations would be no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A section of this chapter was a bitch to proofread, so no exact schedule for posting from here on out.
> 
> Think of it as a little surprise every time I post. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's read this, so far. Comments and kudos are loved and appreciated. ♥


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More talking as Cas gets to know some members of the Wayward Crew.  
> Hints at how the gang will find Cas' Grace.  
> The MFing highlight: Cas and Jody talk! D: Never before seen on the show! Maybe never will, whaaaaaa

 

  The trio arrives back at Jody's sometime before midnight. The two women lead the way, while Castiel lingers at the front door, wary to enter.

  Jody gives a tired sigh, "You can come in." 

  "I'm aware." he replies, slowly passing through. Claire thinks he looks like someone walking into an active nest of Vamps, searching for the first signs of danger. Shaking her head, she wanders to the kitchen, where Alex is spooning out her second plate of pasta.

  "Hey, y'all." Alex greets, focussing oh-so intently on the task at hand. "Heard you and Jody ran out to pick up a guy."  
 

  "Patience tell you?" Claire asks, as Jody shows Castiel around the kitchen, handing him a plate.

  "Yep." Alex replies. She's still dressed in her scrubs, so she must've just gotten home.

  Claire looks back over to Castiel, who's standing in the middle of the room, staring at the counter of food.

  "You can have some." the blond says.

  He sets his plate down on the counter. "I'm not that hungry."

  "...Alright." she watches him walk off into the living room, examining everything with a cautious eye.

  "He's a bit quiet." Alex mumbles between bites. "Long day?"

  "You could say that."

 

 

  A few minutes later, Alex moves to the living room, where the new guy is already sitting on the couch. She takes a seat in the biggest, comfiest recliner, flipping through the channels on the flat screen, while Castiel stares through the set. 

  Patience had told her, when she got home from work, about what Jody and Claire had run out to do. The teen got a little quiet after that, which was different, but not something Alex herself was any stranger to. Before that, though, she'd explained what befell this Angel-turned-Human. Alex figures she knows what it's like to be forced to change species, and decides to see if the guy opens up.

  "Hey," she waves the remote towards him, "You wanna pick something?"

  He looks back, glassy eyed, "No, thank you."

  She continues to flick through channels, "'Kay. I didn't see you get any food. We have different stuff, if Italian isn't your thing."

  "I have pastries." he says, "I'll eat those if I'm hungry."

  She grins, "Picky eater? Or do you think the food's poisoned?"

  She looks to see if he laughs, and is met with a frown.

  "I'm kidding. About the- the poison thing." she purses her lips, "Figures; Angels are Serious."

  "I understand jokes," he says, "I've also met people with morbid senses of humor. Some joke about the things they'll do to their enemies, before actually following through."

  "Jesus, I wasn't being literal!"

  "I don't know you." he glares, "How was I supposed to 'get' that?"

  Alex shakes her head. She wonders if she was this emo when she first met Jody.

  Probably.

  "You know Claire, right?" she asks.

  "Yes."

  "And you trust her?"

  Silence.

  "I know that what you've been through today was a lot, and I don't know how different it is to be Human for an Angel, but trust goes a long way." she pauses at the eerie sense she's been here before, "We're not here to hurt you."

  His eyes fall to the floor, "I've made these same mistakes. Trusting the wrong people." he blinks rapidly, "It's cost me everything in the past. I can't- let that happen. Not again."

  "Look, I get it." she replies, "I've got a crappy past, too. It took me a while to come around to Jody, but I did. She's good people. Close to the Winchesters, as well."

  "I know." he draws up his feet, arms wrapping around his knees, "There's just so much going on lately, and the last thing any of us needs is for me to be powerless." He mutters under his breath, "So much time has already been lost."

  "On the contrary," she lightly says, "Humans are pretty resourceful, if I do say so, myself." 

  "My apologies, I didn't mean to imply any offense."

  "None taken."

  "I was just saying I'M useless when Human."

  Alex's smile falls, "I doubt that's true."

  "I should know." the man says, staring at his dress shoes, "I've been here before."

  "Human?" 

  "Yes."

  "That bad?"

  He doesn't answer.

  "I..." she thinks, "I get it. Being forced to be someone, something, you're not."

  He glances up at her, "Really?"

  "I was turned into a Vampire. And, no, I'm not one now, I took the cure. But the woman who turned me-" her jaw clenches. The images on the TV suddenly become too much for her eyes to focus on, so she switches it off. "She'd kidnapped me, years before. When I was little. She turned me because I wanted to leave, because of the guilt, and, God." she gives a shaky laugh, "It's a whole Thing, and it's way too late to get into, now. But, I do know what it's like," she turns to Castiel, "It's been a couple years, but I'll never forget." 

  He's staring at her now. Alex feels like she's under a microscope, but doesn't tell him to knock it off. It's like he's searching for any lies in her words, in her eyes, which is something she can honestly relate to. The amount of time it took to trust Jody after the deaths of her old Nest, well, this man seemed to be going through something similar.

  Maybe all he needs is a little confirmation.

  It feels as if minutes have passed when he finally speaks.

  "In Heaven, if you question anything, if you disobey," he unconsciously tightens his coat around him, "they reprogram you. Make you pliable, once more. I was... a repeat offender." His eyes trail back down to his feet. "I don't know how many times I've been 'fixed'. I honestly believe it's done more harm than good."

  Alex lets out the a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, "Damn, I think you've got me beat."

  "How so?"

  "Being brainwashed for, what, how long?"

  "Probably as long as I've been in existence." he pauses, "I'd say... as long as Humanity has been around."

  "A really fucking long time?"

  He chuckles, "Yes."

  "Yeah," she shakes her head, "You've had it worse."

  He frowns at that, "It doesn't matter the circumstance or the length of our suffering. It's still your pain, and it's just as important."

  "Ew, fuck off with your emotional maturity." she rolls her eyes. His words are actually what she needs to hear, but Alex would prefer having a root canal than to let anyone else in the house catch even a whiff of what it means to her. Especially Claire. "I'm going for thirds. I'd offer you some, but you prefer that stale shit Claire gets from the dollar store."

  "Well, I mean, what's in there?"

  Alex stops halfway to the kitchen, suppressing a smile, "A bunch of pizza. And, don't wory, Jody's got a mini clinic in the bathroom, if anything happens." 

  He doesn't immediately join her. It isn't until a couple minutes later, once Alex has her plate completely set up, when Castiel comes shuffling in. They say nothing to one another as he grabs himself a very small bowl of pasta, both retaking their places in front of the TV.

  The mood is different now; Less tense, more friendly. Alex offers the man the remote, which he carefully takes. He stops on a cooking channel, where some southern woman is showing the unseen audience how to make a heart attack on a bun. "It takes a little time," the chef's voice comes through, her hands kneading through raw ground beef "but the end result is well worth the wait."

 

 

 

  Claire isn't one for expressing emotions. She doesn't like talking, and tearful revelations. She doesn't like watching people be disappointed, be it in general, or with her. She's uncomfortable around grief. It's not to say Claire is immune to these feelings, just that she prefers avoiding them when possible. 

  Tonight's an exception.

  At first she tries just heading straight to bed. If something was wrong, Jody would handle it, like she usually does. Being a shoulder to cry on is what Jody does best. Not that Claire would know anything about that. But her stupid brain refused to rest, prompting the blond to leave her bed, throw on a pair of sweats to go under her night shirt, and look for the Psychic.

  Patience's bedroom door is open, the room itself empty. Claire checks the kitchen, which has been cleaned up, with the food from that night already put away. She goes to the living room, where Alex and Castiel are holding back laughter as they watch what sounds like cat compilations on the woman's phone. Biting back a smile, Claire decides to leave them be, and makes her way to the garage.

  Patience is leaning against Jody's work car, staring at her cell. "Hey." Claire calls, shutting the door to the house behind her.

  "Hi." the teen replies, tearing her eyes away a few seconds later. "Didn't think you'd be up."

  "Could say the same about you." Claire takes the spot on Patience's left, mimicking her posture, "What's up?"

  "Been messaging Sam." she types away at her smart phone, little pops of the buttons filling the air. "We're putting together a game plan on how to look for Castiel's Grace."

  "Care to share?"

  "Sam gathers info on possible landing sites, and I double check the time stamp of these events, and whether or not they're hoaxes."

  "Well, can't be too hard to find some craters in the ground." Claire gently elbows her.

  Patience shakes her head, "Not what we're looking for."

  "Oh?"

  "Sam says when an Angel falls, their Grace is lost in an area that's typically close by, and signs of its location are indicated by sites of sudden creation." She looks back up from her phone, and Claire can already tell this is the most exhausted this girl has ever been, "He says despite the Grace itself being blocked, everything else should remain the same. So, we can guarantee it will be somewhere within the continental United States."

  Claire lets out a low whistle, "Well, all things considered, that's... good? Better than being on the other side of the planet, at least."

  The teen hums in agreement, "True."

  "So, about the Grace being blocked."

  "Yeah?" 

  "Well, someone's gotta be hiding it."

  She purses her lips, "The Witch."

  Claire shrugs, "It's a possibility. 50/50, from what I've heard."

  The other girl nods, "Yeah, me too."

  "I know that probably messes with your visions-"

  "We'll approach this as a worst case scenario." Patience cuts her off, "treat it as if Aurora is still alive, and work with caution. And if she is alive, then that's that."

  "Oh." Claire's honestly a little surprised, "Okay, then."  
 

  "After all, I've only had three sets of premonitions, so far. There's no pattern set. Anything can change." her phone buzzes with a message. A smile appears on her face. "Things are already looking up. Sam's managed to narrow the area to search to a 200 mile radius."

  "So, Sam's got you enlisted on a hunt, huh?"

  "It's not that, just..."she chews her lip, staring at the concrete wall in front of her, "I want to help. And, I do feel like I need to make up for things."

  "No one says you have to."

  "But it's the right thing to do." she pockets her phone, "And if I can't rely on visions, this early into my "psychic life", then I need to play to my strengths; I'm good at studying, and research, and logical deduction."

  Claire refrains a laugh, "Logic isn't gonna help with the supernatural."

  "And the first two will."

  "True." she smiles.

  The teen pauses, "Do you know if Castiel is staying here for the night? Or, at least will be back in the morning? I'd like to talk to him."

  "I don't know. He's in the living room, so I think he's crashing here. But, maybe put off the questions until tomorrow."

  "Alright. But, I still have a question for you."

  "Shoot."

  With a breath, she continues, "My visions have manifested in different ways almost every single time. According to what I have been able to find out, a psychic's abilities are sorta like a net; it casts out in a wide area when the powers first appear, thinning out over time. It means I can get visions through my dreams, contact with people, and now contact with personal affects."

  "Okay?"

  The teen presses on, "For research purposes, and to better understand how my powers work... did Dean give you the Grumpy Cat toy?" 

  "No, Castiel did." she turns to see the teen better, the other girl's posture noticeably more hunched, "Why do you ask?"

  Patience hesitates. She's starting to look a little alarmed, and extra alert around Claire herself.

  "Look, I know I can be a bit of an asshole, but I really do want to know." she sighs, "You can talk to me."

  Patience meets her eyes, "I... feel like I can't. Like I can't complain, and I always have to do the right thing, and be perfect. And if I screw up, I mean, it's not even an option anymore. Not when it means someone can get killed"

  Claire can't bring herself to say her name, "I know. What that feels like." She makes an awkward attempt at a shoulder pat, to bring Patience some kind of comfort, "We've all messed up, and at times in the worst way possible. But, we come back from it. We help each other recover."

  The teen blinks away un-shed tears, "I... thank you. And, I'm sorry about Kaia. I, God, I know I'll never be able to make up for her, but I'll do my best."

  Claire decides to get over herself, just this once, and embraces Patience, "That wasn't your fault. It was the stranger in the hood. Please don't blame yourself for this."

  "But I read the vision wrong." her voice is muffled by Claire's shoulder, "Had I known what I was doing-"

  "It's not. Your. Fault." Claire squeezes her a little tighter, "Don't make me get Jody. She'll bake a shit ton of cookies, burn half of them, and make you watch B-movies until it makes you smile."

  Patience chokes out a laugh, "She would, wouldn't she?"

  They part, as the teen wipes her eyes, "Thank you. It means a lot."

  "Hey, you're one of us." she grins, "For better or worse."

  Patience gives a tired smile, "I think I'll head to my room. Phone needs to be charged, anyway."

  "Get some rest, please."

  "Aright, Mom."

  Claire calls as the door shuts behind the girl, "It's only because you look like shit."

  "Love you, too." is the muffled reply.

 

 

  
  Jody leaves her room just a few minutes to one. She figures if Castiel was really intent on staying somewhere else for the night, then he'd still be awake. She's proven right as she walks into the kitchen, to find him taking out bread from the cabinet, and placing it beside the jelly and peanut butter on the counter.  
 

  "You still hungry?" she asks. Castiel seems a little startled at her presence, but shakes it off quickly enough.

  "No, but it's been so long since I've had PB&J, and I just wanted to smell it, and make some for tomorrow. If you don't mind."

  "Not at all."

  "I thought everyone went to bed." he says, taking a butter knife to the peanut spread, "Alex put the food away and then went to her room, and it's been so quiet since."

  "I was just checking up on some things. And, scrounging up some money, if you're still set on staying at a motel." Jody goes to the fridge, grabbing herself a beer. 

  "I... I think I'll stay." he says, discarding the first knife and grabbing a fresh one from the drawer. Jody takes note of this with a grin, which is expertly covered by her bottle; not a double-dipper, so he's already a better house guest than Claire. 

  Claire... her stomach churns at the thought of that topic, and the fact that Castiel has been nothing but honest up to this point. A bit paranoid, sure, but she's never met a hunter that wasn't. However, this wasn't just something she could ignore.

  She would start off slow. Subtle.

  "So, you're close to Sam and Dean?"

  "I believe so." he begins putting his sandwich together.

  "You know," she chuckles, "There's a lot of talk about those boys. Rumors and stories spread by people who've never even met them. And me, I just take a step back and let them bullshit. Maybe I'll correct them a time or two, but most of it's harmless."

  "I can't imagine why anyone would have to make anything up about them." he says, putting his supplies away.

  "Beats me." she shrugs, "But, I had heard a bit of the Angel they'd befriended. Although, it's not usually put in a good light, depending on who's telling the story."

  "Angels haven't exactly endeared themselves to mankind." Castiel agrees, "I apologize for all you've heard, true or not."

  She waves him off, "I take most of that stuff with a grain of salt. And, Sam and Dean trust you, that's all that matters."

  "What stories have you heard?" he licks some stray jelly off his thumb.

  "Um, not good ones. Ones I'm sure have been blown _way_ out of proportion-"

  "Do you think that's why Sam and Dean don't talk about me?" he asks casually, "That other Hunters have made up their minds, and they don't wish to draw more attention to the matter?"

  "I- I don't think so-"  
 

  "They didn't tell you."

  She frowns, "I'm not one of those dick-bags that judges someone they've never met."

  "And what do you think of me?"

  She waits a beat, mulling over these words, "I think you're honest. Blunt. You don't seem to have a filter." 

  "Do you want me to leave?"

  "What?"

  "Claire invited me to stay the night, but you don't seem so thrilled about that." his face falls a little at this, "I can leave, I was just wanting to pack something to eat tomorrow before deciding."

  "It's up to you if you want to leave, but I'm not throwing you out." she takes a breath, "I- let me start from the beginning."

  Both end up leaning against their separate counters, facing one another, "A few years back," she says, "when Claire first came to live with me, she wasn't in a good place. She was looking for cases everywhere, finding ones where there were none, and lashing out at us when we tried helping.

  "Shortly after, there were these petty crimes being committed around town. Claire became a suspect. Everyone knew she was staying with me, and an officer in my station asked how I wanted to proceed. He had her record up, and, well, I am a cop. I'd looked at it for only two seconds, and I'd seen enough.

  "Her mother, Amelia, was recently deceased, just like Claire said, but her father, Jimmy, was simply a missing person who'd shown up again to get her out of Foster care. There was a photo, too." she smiles grimly, "Hard to forget a face like that. 

  "She'd told me both her parents were dead. Seeing that wasn't true, I figured she just wanted to cut her Dad out, and if Claire wanted to bring it up again, she would." Her nails tap against the counter in thought, "And then, earlier this evening, she shows me a picture of Jimmy Novak, says instead it's an Angel named Castiel, and that you were the one to bail her out of the system. I already knew Angels needed to posses Human vessels, so I put two-and-two together."

  Castiel tenses. "Is she alright? Is she still hunting? Is that even safe with her mindset-"

  "I know you're possessing her father."

  Castiel pauses, "Not exactly, but is Claire okay?"

  Jody resists the urge to roll her eyes, "Yes, and what do you mean by 'not exactly'?"

  "Jimmy's soul departed years ago."

  "Does Claire know this?"

  "Yes. But, I suppose my word isn't enough. You should really ask Claire about that."

  She rubs a hand down her face, "I know. I believe you, but she and I will talk."

  He tilts his head ever so-slightly, "Is that it?"

  "I wanted to know if Claire was letting you stay because she thought you could give her Dad back."

  A look of absolute hurt crosses his face, "I would if I could."

  "I- I imagine you would." Jody's a little thrown off by his words.

  He looks past her, "Are you sure you don't want me to leave, now?"

  She purses her lips, "To me, you're telling the truth. Claire invited you here, and she's an adult. And, while I'd prefer her not having guests over without talking to me first, it's time I started trusting her. That is, of course, if you want to stay."

  He blinks slowly, "I'm so tired."

  She lifts a hand towards the living room, "Couch is yours." She gives her best reassuring smile.

  "I can stay?"

  "Of course."

 

 

 

  The door slams behind her. The phone clutched in her hand bings with text after text. Her contacts in city after city reporting in, saying her operation's are bust. 

  Aurora doesn't need to look at them anymore. They all say the same thing.

  Years, decades of work, crumbling in a matter of hours.

  She starts going through shelves, mindless in her rage. She'd offered a helping hand, and those ungrateful bastards-

  Her fingers brush the spines of Grimoires, spell books.

  -dared say no. She tried being reasonable, and everyone knows if the Winchester's attack dog is involved, not much will get done. She had to get him out of the picture. He wouldn't have hesitated in running her through.

  She's reached the second shelf, filled from end to end with hex bags, at the ready for any of her needs. She needs them to suffer.

  Aurora had heard of the Winchester's; to say their reputation preceded them was an understatement. You get one on your tail, another wasn't far behind. And their self-righteousness drove them to putting Witches like her out of business, as if what they did was any better. They hustle pool, she has a multi-million dollar empire. Had. Will have again.

  Hex bags are too quick, too kind. She wants to prolong things.

  She reaches the third shelf.

  She tried playing nice, offering to share a piece of the pie. But, once she sent that meddlesome Angel away, the shorter one wouldn't listen to reason. He wanted her dead, just for kicking out the family pet.

  She'll show him what happens when you lie with dogs.

  The box is at her fingertips. She slips the items from her pocket.

  They thought her dead. That shall change soon, if not already. The brothers see themselves as clever, careful. Where they go, prying eyes won't see. But she sees all, with eyes everywhere. Finding hair from a shower drain in a cheap motel, bloody bandages in a waste basket, saliva from a beer bottle. They are in her hands. 

  A heart, everlasting. Those two, dog and master, nestled in-between. It's what they deserve.

  It beats, stronger than ever. Aurora shuts the lid, and whispers to the contents within, to the doomed lovers, to their fate, to its pulse, marching forward, on and on.

  No matter where they run, she will see. 

  "Make them suffer."

  She moves to the next box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a very busy and mentally draining couple of weeks for me. However, my schedule has cleared up so I can write and post more.
> 
> So, two things:  
> 1) This was the last chapter I had outlined in such fine detail, (which I of course did a complete overhaul on, but anyway) so it will take me some time to get chap 4 written up.  
> 2) Good news, though, is that the bulk of the character intros, establishing, and plot planting is out of the way. I won't say it's smooth sailing from here, but to get the characters where they need to be, while still being themselves, is almost complete. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed! Leave a comment, yell if you want, tell me I take too long, whatevs. and I'll see ya next time!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *set to the meow-mix theme*  
> plot-plot-plot-plot  
> plot-plot-plot-plot  
> plot-plot-plot-plot-PLOT-plot-plot-plot
> 
> So.Much.Talking.  
> Enjoy
> 
> Proper, serious summary:
> 
> Everyone gathers 'round to hear the plan. Details are shared to an exhausting degree, despite the fact it's fanfiction, so I'm not getting paid for shit.
> 
> Cas and Claire finally(!) hit the road.

 

 

  Claire awakens to the smell of coffee. She turns over, her hand searching the floor for her discarded jeans. Finding her phone, she checks to see what ungodly hour in the morning it is.

  "It's fuckin' six." she slurs, "It's too damn early." 

  She passes out for another five minutes, until the coffee smell gets stronger.

  "What mother-fucker...?" she rolls over, misjudging the distance to the mattress' edge, spilling to the floor. "God fucking dammit."

  Shrugging on the the previously mentioned pants, she stumbles out into the hallway, searching for the usual suspect. Without bothering to knock, she barges into Patience's room.

  "Listen, I know we had a heart-to-heart last night, but this needs to stop."

  Patience peers up from her steaming mug, wide awake, but with bags under her eyes. She ignores Claire's grumpy mood entirely. "Sam and I have been making progress." Her eyes flit to the computer screen in front of her, and then back to Claire again. "Care for an update?"

  "No." she snarks, "What I'd care for is one day when I can sleep in 'til twelve." 

  The teen blows at the drink's cream-colored surface, "Sam and I have five possible landing sites, a cluster of them only half a day's drive out. I'll tell you the details once everyone's a bit more awake."

  "How considerate."

  "Coffee?"

  "What?" Claire follows the direction of Patience's thumb, it pointing to the corner of her immaculate room, "When did you get a coffee machine?!"

  "I brought it from my old house."

  "You- you just-"

  She shrugs, "College-level classes are hard. I pulled a lot of all-nighters."

  "Like tonight, I take it?"

  "Don't tell Jody."

  Claire rolls her eyes and goes to take one of the mugs from the teen's bedside table. "Looks clean."

  "You sound so surprised." 

  "I really shouldn't be." the blond admits, "Maybe I was just holding out hope that you'd be a normal kid and want to sleep in."

  "One thing I've learned from finding out about my powers, and monsters," she takes a sip, "and Angels, is that normal is completely unattainable."

  Claire pours her own, not bothering with the stash of powdered sugar and creamer packets nearby. "I see you've finally come around. Next thing you know, you'll be charging into a ghoul's lair with a machine gun."

  "I don't have a death wish."

  "You're right. Staying up past curfew is _way_ more edgy."

  There's a banging from the other side of the wall, "WILL YOU TWO SHUT THE HELL UP!?"

  "Sorry, Alex."

  "Yeah, Patience," Claire makes for the door, "keep it down."

  She can hear the teen's mumbles and curses as she walks further down the hall. Pleased with herself, Claire decides to see if Castiel is up yet.

  She stops in the living room to see him with the clean clothes basket, one of Jody's bathrobes tied tightly at the waist, as he folds towels.

  "Careful," she calls, as his head whips up at the sound of her steps, "you keep this up, and Jody'll have you move in permanently."

  He tilts his head, not quite grasping what she says, "I was washing my clothes, but the dryer was full. These towels needed to be taken care of. I don't see how that warrants imprisonment."

  "No, staying as a guest, numbskull." she looks around, "Have you even slept, yet?"

  "Yes, four hours." 

  "That's not nearly enough."

  "It's enough for Dean, and just a few short of Sam."

  Claire narrows her eyes, very close to throwing all manners out the window. However, she holds her tongue, taking a sip of her drink, and focuses on more pressing matters, "Have you caffeinated?"

  "What?"

  "Coffee." she lifts her mug. "You had any?"

  Castiel struggles to answer, which reminds Claire of the night before. Wordlessly, she offers him her own cup. He looks to refuse, so she says, "I can get another." 

  With that, he graciously takes the dish, thoughtfully sipping its contents. "Thank you."

  "Jody up?" 

  "She's gone to fill up one of the cars with gas. She said I can take that instead of committing grand theft auto."  
 

  She snorts at this. "When do you plan on heading out? For your Grace, and stuff."

  "As soon as possible." he drinks deeply, then sets the mug down, returning to the laundry.

  "Could take a while." Claire shrugs, "You might be stuck with us for the day."

  Folded towels in hand, he heads to the bathroom, "We'll see."

 

 

  
  
  It's a few minutes later, after Castiel has thrown his clothes into the washer, that he wanders back into the kitchen. His stomach growls, beckoning him to the contents of the cabinets. He finds the corn flakes he saw Alex digging through a few hours before. She's apparently a light sleeper, and an early-morning snacker. He awoke, and she casually whispered between mouthfuls of cereal "Don't tell Jody."

  Castiel supposed he should find it gross, like most Humans would, but he'd eaten out of dumpsters before. Everything else was gourmet in comparison. Besides, it meant the cereal wasn't poisoned.

  Just like the pasta the night before.

  And the coffee in his hand.

  He wonders, do most Humans think of these things? Or, if it's just Hunters and fallen Angels? Even when he was Human and out of the life, it didn't stop his enemies in Heaven and Hell. They still treated him as a threat, despite his new weaknesses, such as hunger and fatigue.

  At times, they were out right cruel with their methods. Even those who claimed themselves as allies. Friends.

  One can't really blame him for his caution, now.

  The smell of coffee wafts through the air, drawing Castiel from his thoughts. He looks over at the kitchen's new occupant, who's hidden behind the refrigerator door. 

  "Can I help you?" he asks.

  There is a thud , followed by "OW" as the person shuts the door.

  "Hi." the girl says, rubbing her head. She presses the yogurt in her other hand to her skull, as she walks over to one of the drawers.

  "You're the psychic, yes?" Castiel pauses, "Patience, right?"

  "Yeah." she says, stabbing her yogurt cup with a spoon. "And you're Castiel."

  "No introductions needed, I suppose?" he remarks.

  She snorts, "That's super corny, but yeah."

  "Corny?" he looks to the corn flakes box in his possession.

  "Don't worry about it." She devours half her breakfast before pointing at the cereal, "I wouldn't eat that if I were you. Alex likes to serve herself by the fist-full." she grins, "And then blames Claire for it."

  "I could see that." he nods, "Claire's especially bad with pickled olives."

  Her face scrunches at this, "Ew, I didn't know we had those in the house."

  "Don't worry about it." he replies. He's quite pleased when she squints in disapproval. 

  With a frown, she continues to shovel food into her mouth, "Can I ask you a few questions?" she mumbles.

  "Of course."

  "What exactly happened yesterday? Where did everything go wrong?"

  Castiel draws in a heavy breath, "We arrived at the Witch Aurora's location. She knew we were there, however, and cornered Dean and I."

  "Sam wasn't there?"

  "He was in the other room."

  He looks for the bowls as she mulls this over. Pouring his cereal once he finds one, she goes on.

  "This may be an odd thing to ask, but, before the three of you were separated, did you and Dean get into an argument?"

  "Just about whether or not the Witch was really there, or if she was hiding."

  "Was there any wall-shoving?" she deadpans.

  "Wall shoving?"

  A nod.

  "No."

  "Not at any point?"

  "No. I take it this was in your vision?"

  "...Yes." she purses her lips. Her yogurt cup is empty, so she takes to just staring at it.

  Castiel puts the box away, then moves to the fridge for milk. "Is it bad that it didn't happen?"

  "What?" she asks, a little startled.

  "What does it mean when a vision doesn't come to pass?"

  "I didn't say it didn't happen."

  Castiel's eyes narrow in confusion, "But this 'wall-shoving' incident never occurred. Therefore, the vision never happened." he takes a bite from his flakes, "That, or it wasn't for yesterday."

  Patience stares at him with eyes the size of saucers, "Are YOU psychic?"

  "As an Angel, my powers enabled me to read minds, dreamwalk, as well as several other things that would be classified as 'psychic'. Most of all, though, I'm just very old, with a lot of knowledge. And, Prophets are slightly similar with their own visions."

  "Prophets." she echoes, eyes slowly blinking under the bright lights of the kitchen.

  "So, if your vision has not come to pass," he continues, "why do you look so worried?"

  "They've always preceded death."

  He continues, unfazed, "How many times has this happened?"

  "Three." she sets the cup and spoon aside, focusing in on Castiel, "The first time, a Wraith was hunting me down. I had multiple visions concerning him. Each time, I predicted myself, my Dad, then Jody, and finally Dean, dying at his hands. I was able to prevent each of these by warning everyone. They only stopped when the Wraith himself was killed.

  "A few weeks later, I had another vision of Dean, Sam, and Jody in the other world, in the Bad Place. In it, Jody got stabbed. But then, my second vision showed Claire in her place." She leans in closer, "But, this was after Jody called her in to help with Sam and Dean, who'd already been trapped in the other universe."

  Castiel sets his now empty dishes in the sink. "Your vision changed when Claire got involved." He feels uneasy, knowing Claire was in such danger. Sure, she's safe now, but it's still chilling to imagine.

  "Yes! It then changed _again_ when Kaia went with Claire to the Bad Place. But, this was a weird, posthumous vision. This clearly showed Kaia dying." Patience rubs her arms, "It's like fate was taunting me."

  "It was Fate, yes, but I doubt they were taunting you," Castiel says.

  "They? Wait, is this another Angel thing?"

  "More of the Greek Pantheon. The Moirai are the three Goddesses of Fate, and each has a role to play in the destiny of every living thing. Or, they used to, until we stopped the first Apocalypse." he shrugs his shoulders, "They've had to accept that the future is not theirs' to control."

  "But, if I have a vision of someone getting killed, it's not set in stone. However, _someone_ does end up dying"

  "Well, I imagine they still want the metaphorical check books to be balanced."

  "A life for a life?"

  "Perhaps." 

  She purses her lips, "Alright, knowing that, let me tell you of my final vision.

  "You and Dean were there. He pushed you against the wall. You had a blade out."

  Castiel raises a brow at this, "At my side, or pointed at him?"

  "I don't remember. I was only focused on what you looked like, in case you were the bad guy they were hunting."

  "You thought I would hurt Dean?"

  "I initially thought you were in danger," she explains, "but, as I said, it doesn't take much for that to change. What's more, is that later that day, I asked Claire about the cat plushie I touched, which triggered the vision in the first place."

  Castiel feels a smile tug at his lips, "She kept the Grumpy Cat?"

  "Yeah, so that's what makes me think the vision was centered around you, and your... safety."

  "You say the plushie caused the episode? I assume because of the sentimentality in it?"

  "Yes! That's exactly it!"

  "So, it could be connected to Claire as well."

  "Yeah, but she wasn't in the vision."

  "You're operating on the assumption that the vision was for yesterday."

  Patience tenses, "I've thought of that. And that the Witch might be alive. But, let's just work on best case scenarios, right? Just, in the meantime, maybe avoid Dean for a bit. If that's even possible." she adds with an awkward punch to Castiel's arm.

  "You think I'm still in danger?"

  "I don't know. I've not had another premonition, so my guess is no."

  "Have you tried inducing one? Like, by touching the Grumpy Cat again."

  "I already tried, which, don't tell Claire, by the way, and I got nothing."

  "So, you think if Dean and I stay away from one another-?"

  "You should be good."

  "Fate tends to be more clever than that."

  She nods, "I'm starting to realize that." she gives a shaky laugh.

  "If anything happens, you know it's not your fault."

  She looks up at him, "But, what's the point of these powers if I can't help people?"

  "I've known plenty of ordinary Humans who didn't need powers to be extraordinary." he smiles the tiniest smile, and he can tell it does the trick. Patience relaxes a little, and lets out a single breath.

  "That's even cornier than before, but I'll take it."

 

 

  Half an hour later, and the house is buzzing with activity. Patience is in the living room, connecting her phone to the TV, preparing for the video call with Sam.

  Castiel has just tended to the laundry, and is now prepping a bag for his trip, calculating how much he would owe Jody, should he use or lose any of it.

  Claire's in her room, triple checking her own duffel, thoughts of asking to go with Castiel racing through her head. 

  Jody steps through the front door, shopping bags in hand. She meets Patience first. "When will the boys be on?"

  "Thirty to forty-five minutes." the teen answers. "Alex doesn't have to be up for this, but it would be nice if everyone were present."

  "No problem. Sam and Dean know we'll help anyway we can." she shrugs off her light jacket, as the mornings in South Dakota this time of year tended to be chilly. "Is Claire up?"

  "In her room."

  "Thank you." Jody starts looking around the house for the former Angel, first, finding him in her room, meticulously going through hunting supplies, specifically those for fighting and killing Witches. "Find everything you need?"  
 

  "Yes. The extensive collection of protection charms should be sufficient." he says, standing up from the floor, careful not to knock anything over.

  Jody holds out a bag for him, "Here. Got you a change of clothes."

  He seems a little taken back by the gesture, "I- you didn't need to. My clothes are almost done."

  "You're Human. You have body odor, just like the rest of us. Plus, with that coat of yours, in this heat? You'll cook before noon."

  Still a bit uncertain, he accepts the bag. "Thank you, Sheriff. I'll be sure to reimburse you, later."

  "Don't worry about it, really." she fixes him with a look, silently telling him to just drop it.  
 

  After this, she goes to Claire's bedroom door. She knocks, and the blond opens it a moment later, "Hey, Jody. What's up?"

  "I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?"

  "Yeah."

  "Right, meet me in the garage."

 

 

 

  Patience finally has the connection up, the screen displaying a live feed of the Winchester's bunker, (they have a bunker!) where the cork-board with a map of south Dakota and it's surrounding states was already littered with notes and photos. She turns away to retrieve her own file next to her, checking that everything was there. Looking up, she sees Castiel enter the living room, now in his freshly laundered dress clothes.

  "You got anything lighter to wear?" she asks, "The weather around here gets really humid in the afternoon." 

  "So I've heard." he mumbles, struggling with his tie. He eventually gives up, pocketing it, instead. He sets the traveling bag in his other hand down on the couch, already stuffed with supplies.  
 

  Patience is about to suggest he use a mirror to aid him with his tie problem, but stops when she realizes the man has dressed himself like he's never seen a mirror before; His hair's a barely-combed, scraggly mess, his face unshaven, clothes wrinkly, and his shoes-

  She's seen better knots from a five-year-old.

  "I don't get it." she stares in bewilderment, "You were fine yesterday. Minus the whole crashing to Earth, thing, of course. But, today, dude, you look like you've never dressed yourself before."

  Castiel squints his eyes, confused. "That's not true. I have arranged my own outfits. In fact, I've done so just several months ago."

  She pinches the bridge of her nose, "That's- the entire point. How can you-?"

  Claire enters the room, "Angels don't sweat, so they don't need to change their clothes." she plops down in the recliner, fiddling with the zipper of her light jacket.

  "So, they all just walk around looking like a hot mess?" the teen asks.

  "No," Castiel interjects, "Most Angels are sharp dressers, actually. They're also soldiers, and thus find changing their clothes to be a waste of time."

  "And you're different how, exactly?"

  "Well, these clothes have sentimental value."

  "Bitch, you've changed your outfit twice since I first met you." Claire says.

  "Yes, but it's keeping in theme." he insists, "Like a uniform."

  "Again," Patience goes, "How are you any different from the other Angels?"

  "I look better."

  "He also gussies up for Dean." Claire adds, "Obviously."

  "I don't know what you're talking about, Dean takes more time in the bathroom than Sam or I." 

  "All of you, shut up." Alex grumbles, shuffling into the living room. "Patience, your room stinks."

  "Of coffee." the teen adds.

  "Right, and some of us with a job are trying to sleep." she roughly shoves Castiel's bag out of the way, taking a seat in its place. "When's the show start?"

  "When Jody gets back." Claire responds.

  "I thought she already did?" Castiel asks.

  "She's double checking that the car's ready to go. Tuned-up, good tires, the works."

  He looks uneasy at this, "She doesn't have to."

  "She's just being nice."

  "I know how to keep maintainance on a vehicle."

  On screen, Sam's face appears. "Can y'all see me?" he asks.

  "Crystal." Patience replies, "You see us?"

  "Yup."

  "I'm here." Jody says, taking a seat next to Alex. "We're all ready to go."

  Castiel joins the others on the couch, as Patience scoots back on the floor to get a better view of the TV set.

  "Alright." Sam claps his hands, "Where you wanna start?"

  "Where's Dean?" Castiel asks.

  Claire and Alex simultaneously roll their eyes.

  "I'll get to that." the Winchester says, "But, he's already left. It's all part of the plan, though, so don't worry."

  "How is he doing? I haven't spoken to him since yesterday evening."

  "We get it." Alex spits, "You're worried about your man. He's fine. Shut up."

  "You don't have to be rude."

  "Moving on!" Patience interjects, "Let's start with what we know:

  "Castiel's Grace is being blocked by some powerful magic. There's a strong enough chance it's Aurora, but it could be any Witch, even a business partner. Either way, they've hidden it on purpose. The only question though, is why?

  "Aurora could have just as easily left the Grace alone, adding to the illusion she's dead. Or, a business associate could keep their name clear by putting as much distance between themselves and Aurora as possible. It would be as simple as that, if not for one thing: they've pissed off a Winchester." the teen turns to the camera situated by the base of the TV set, "You two have got a hell of a reputation in both the Hunting and supernatural communities. Anyone who's anyone knows if they piss you off, y'all won't just leave it at that. With this in mind, a Witch with the notoriety of Aurora, and anyone who works with her, knows they're not safe. The best option now, for that person, would be to find leverage to use against the three of you, or something that would keep Dean from killing them. And, so, they have Castiel's Grace."

  "If they're the only one's that know of its location," Sam concludes, "Then we have no choice but to leave them alive, while someone else checks to see if the info's legit."

  "Or, just kill the Witch you find," Jody says, "and all their spells should wear off."

  "That would normally be our main tactic." Sam admits, "But, we don't know how many people we're dealing with. It could be an entire Coven, with no idea who cast the original spell."

  "So it would seem our only option would be diplomacy." Patience frowns.

  "You don't seem to like that." Claire smirks.

  "That's the thing; our best option is off the table, because Dean said, and I quote, "Fuck that, fuck her, I'll find that bitch myself- " it went on for awhile after that."

  Sam winces, "I didn't know you heard that."

  "So!" Patience clasps her hands together, "Plan B. Dean chases the best Witch-related lead he has, finds them, and holds off on killing them. That's- all we could get from him."

  "Meanwhile, a second team will be on the ground searching possible landing sites." Sam says, "It's highly doubtful that this Witch would head for the Grace themselves, since if they had it on their person, all Dean would have to do is kill them-"

  "Let's face it, that's exactly what he would do." Patience adds, "And they know it, too."

  "In short, our best guess is that whoever's blocking Cas' Grace will use the knowledge of it's location for leverage, but will not have it in their possession."

  "Makes sense." Jody nods in agreement.

  "So, Dean's just gone off, on his own, to confront possibly Aurora herself, after she defeated us just last night?" Castiel frowns.

  "I don't think there was any telling him no." Claire says.

  "Pretty much." Sam shrugs.

  "Changing gears, let's cover how we'll find these landing sites." Patience stands next to the screen itself, "We had a bit of trouble early on. See, when Castiel's Grace was expelled, he was already on the ground, so any signs of its location are marked by a bright light rising from the ground, traveling across the sky, and crash landing some miles away. Meaning, it could only be described by the scientific community as an 'unidentified flying object'."

  "Oh my God." Alex laughs, "How many nut-jobs think they see saw an alien?"

  "Two dozen." Sam deadpans.

  Castiel chimes in, "Well, they're not wrong." 

  "We're not being technical, here." Patience says, "And we're ruling out those who say they saw little green men, and were abducted by flying saucers, and- ugh- were probed."

  "Are people actually saying this?" Alex asks, wiping tears from her eyes.

  "Yeah. Oddly enough, it's mostly middle aged white men making these claims. All appear to be known members of the "Alien Investigator Community"."

  Alex loses it, falling back in a fit of giggles. 

  "Now, like many other UFO 'sightings'," Sam continues, "eye-witness reports start pouring in, and eventually it covers an entire region. As of this morning, several of the surrounding states have people reporting their own encounters."

  "So, how'd you narrow it down?" Claire asks, recalling what Patience said earlier, in her room.

  "Good question! And, I know it's more or less a shot in the dark, but we used the statistics from another Angel's fall." Sam pulls out his own folder, "When the Angel Anna fell, she was reborn as the Human Anna Milton. At the time of her 'conception' a meteorite, her Grace, was recorded falling 200 miles away from her location."

  "We've taken this statistic," Patience says, "and compared it to what little information the Men of Letters had on Fallen Angels. Characteristically, the Grace, if separated during descent, or expelled at any point, tends to land relatively close to the Angel.

  "So, we matched known descriptions of Grace and Angelic activity to accounts made within a 200 mile radius, and double checked it's accuracy by expanding the area to 250, and then 300."

  "200 seems to be the magic number." Sam says.

  "Only other issue we've experienced with this, is that people within the Alien-Hunter-slash-Explorer community know each other." the teen explains. "So, they're swapping legitimate info back and forth, and muddying it's origin. As a result, we don't have a solid idea which directions to rule out."

  "Plus," Sam adds, "any video taken, both real and doctored, we would need at least a couple days to sift through. But there are six locations lined up." he points to a spot on the map, "The closest of which is roughly 30 miles away. Others are about 50, and the furthest is exactly 198 miles from here."

  "How soon can I head out?" Castiel asks.

  Sam is about to answer when Patience cuts him off, "I would give it a day, so we can go through our options more thoroughly, and not waste time."

  "I wouldn't consider it a waste," Castiel remarks, "Sam and Dean have traveled greater distances for less. Myself, included."

  Patience nods her head, clearly still uncertain, "Do what you have to, of course. You know what you're doing better than I do. My apologies."

  An awkward silence fills the room, only broken by Sam's voice, "We of course don't have access to all the databases around here, and I might be good at hacking, but it would be easier, and faster, if you could provide us with Police reports, Jody. And Alex-"

  "Medical records. Got it." she gives a thumbs-up, still tired from laughing.

  "That's about it, guys. Patience and I will continue digging, but that's all we have, for now."

  "Right." the teen stiffly says, as she piles her notes into a stack, then turns to disconnect the call, "We'll get back to this in a moment, Sam. I'm going to need locations and directions both downloaded and printed out for Castiel, later."

  "No problem. See you in a bit." the screen goes black from his end. The teen then switches it off completely, grabbing her phone. "Anyone needs me, I'll be in my room."

  Jody, Claire, and Alex look to one another, concerned. Castiel, unmoved by the shift in tension, simply rises from his seat, gathering his traveling bag next to Alex. "I'll head out as soon as Patience gets those addresses for me." he gives a nod to the three remaining seated, "Thank you for listening in, this morning. I know we all didn't get much sleep tonight, but I appreciate it." 

  Once he's left the room, Jody simply shrugs, "That's that, I guess."

  "You don't honestly think this is a good idea, do you?" Claire asks incredulously, "He just said Dean going out by himself was a dumb move-"

  "Well, I can't tell him not to." the older woman shakes her head, "He's an adult Claire, and can decide for himself."

  "You'd step in if Sam or Dean were about to do something this stupid."

  "I don't know what you want me from me, Claire! I know this will come as a shock to you, but I don't know this guy. Just met him last night, and I doubt he'd care about what I'd have to say on this, seeing as he's already made up his mind."

  Claire's jaw sets, as she quickly stands, "Fine, then. I'll talk to him."  
  


 

 

  Castiel attempts to comb out his hair in the bathroom mirror. Running his fingers through it, he notices the faintest hint of silver at the roots. As an Angel, his Grace would periodically replenish the cells in his body, keeping his vessel in its mid-thirties.

  _Not vessel_ , he chastises himself, _my body._

  However, since his powers began to slowly wane, something that was worrying him more with every passing day, he accounted for it by prioritizing its uses. Castiel then started to let his body slowly age, little by little. Never enough to be really noticeable, but there was no need to remain in his early thirties, forever. It would be too strange to stagnate in youth as Sam and Dean continue to grow older.

  The thought of the brothers aging saddens him; the two of them have rarely mentioned it to him, as they truly believe they won't live long enough to grow grey.

  He chases away the thought. He looks down at his clothes, smoothing down wrinkles with his hands. The dress pants and button-up shirt were already warmer than he liked. The dark green collared shirt and jeans Sheriff Mills had bought him were becoming more tempting by the moment. No, to wear anything else before a mission would be too strange. He wouldn't feel like himself. 

  He wouldn't be the Hunter he needed to be.

  There is a knock on the bathroom door. It isn't closed, and Castiel is still unsure why Humans feel the need to do this. Saying hello would be less odd. Although, he too has picked up the habit over the years.

  "Hey." Claire says.

  Castiel looks over, and decides he's done trying to fix his appearance. "What can I do for you, Claire?"

  "Nothing. I was just wanting to talk."

  She clearly wants something. She wasn't looking him in the eye, which was always, in Castiel's experience, a tell that the person had another motive. He finds that people are always doing this, contradicting themselves. He wonders if it's another habit he's picked up over time. 

  "Go on."

  "You really leaving soon?"

  "Yes."

  She's blocking the doorway. It must be subconscious, though. She's not given any indication she would be violent, at least not towards him. Maybe.

  "No changing your mind?" her arms are now crossed over her chest, meaning there's no changing _her_ mind.

  "No. This mission is very time sensitive." he answers.

  "Would you consider letting one of us tag along? Like I said last night, there's safety in numbers."

  "You?"

  She shrugs, "Why not."

  "Because, I've done more missions by myself than not. Because, I'll be fine on my own."

  "Dude, you'd said not five minutes ago that Dean going out by himself was a bad idea. Hypocrite, much?"

  "Dean is used to hunting in pairs, primarily with Sam." he explains, "I'm used to hunting alone."

  "When you were an Angel."

  "Yes-"

  "And you're more vulnerable, now!" she's reached the point she wanted to make. Castiel wonders why she cares so much.

  "It's been three years. What do you care what I do?"

  She gapes at him, "Look, that's a two-way street. You didn't talk to me, either!"

  "The so-called ball was in your court." he says, "It was your decision to let me into your life. You never got back in touch. This told me you didn't wish to remain in contact."

  "You don't have to be attached to the hip 24/7 to be close! You can go years without talking to someone, and still- you know." she mumbles, "Be family."

  "And how was I supposed to know that? Most of these common Human habits, I'm still learning, Claire!" he began to feel a little frustrated, "Add that to the fact that Hunters and those in the Life aren't like most people, it's a lot to keep up with. You tell me it's normal to just cut people out of your life for years at a time, and I'm not sure I believe you."

  "I'm here, now! Can be back-up, whatever." She looks him in the eye, "You shouldn't have to do this on your own."

  If the occasion were to arise, and worse came to worse, it would be nice for someone to know he'd died. Someone to retrieve and burn his body, at a later point. More likely than not, none of these things would happen, alone. Used to be, Castiel wouldn't care one way or the other. But, ever since he got out of the Empty, it's felt like he has another chance at... something. Anything. For the first time, in a very long time, he truly wants to live.

  But not if it means putting someone else in danger.

  "You could get hurt." He says, resolve already crumbling. He goes for one more argument, "Patience thinks if there's another vision involving me, that it wouldn't take much for another person to get caught in the middle." 

  "I'm a Hunter. Putting my neck out there is part of the job."

  She's kinda like Dean; Mind's made up, and all you can do is stand back, or join and make sure they don't get themselves killed. A pang of sadness grips him as a second thought enters his mind.

  _She wants to spend time with you, idiot.This could be your chance to make things better._

  "I-you can come with me."

  Her eyes widen in surprise. "Cool. I'll- go get my bag."   
  


 

  
  A few minutes later, Patience hands him a sheet of paper with the list of addresses, and asks if he has a phone. He hands it over, she toys with it for a moment, and then gives it back, saying a digital copy of the information had been installed, along with GPS. They would get live updates as sites were added and eliminated.

  He asks if she's still upset. 

  "I'm not angry." she sighs, "I'm tired. It's been a long night. And I'm trying so hard to not let all of this get to me, that there are plenty of reasons to believe you and Dean are in the clear. I just- what if I'm wrong?"

  "About the vision?"

  "About you being safe as long as the two of you remain separated. You guys can't do that forever-"

  "You don't know we were in mortal danger. Your vision could've just been about me being sent away."

  She rubs her head, "I know. I still wish you'd give it a day, though."  
 

  "The longer we wait, the more likely it is to be found by someone else, Human or monster, Demon or Angel." he shakes his head, "If I knew of a better way, I'd take it."  
 

  "Are you at least taking someone with you?"

  "Claire, actually. The Sheriff and Alex have their own jobs, and you're helping Sam, so it makes sense."

  "She's pretty good back-up." the teen gives a weak smile, "On second thought, you should be fine."

 

 

 

  It's after this Castiel has one more chat with Jody. He tells her of Claire volunteering to go with him, which the Sheriff reveals she already knows. She then informs him she talked to Claire about the previous night, and how it went much better than she'd expected. "Still a bit worried she's wanting to leave 'cause she's pissed." Jody nervously laughs, "All that aside, bring her back in one piece, got it?"

  "Yes, ma'am." he nods.

  "I'm not kidding. She comes back missing limbs or organs-"

  "All in one piece." he promises.

 

 

 

  It's a little after eight when they load the car up. The air is comfortably warm, and the sun just peaking through the lowest branches of the trees. From houses up and down the block, several people are emerging, done up in their dresses and suits, no doubt heading towards the local church for Sunday mass. Claire honestly doesn't miss it, although, it is eerie to be walking out the front door early on a Sunday morning, with a guy the spitting image of her Dad in his Sunday best. To say it was familiar would be an understatement.

  Jody hugs her for the ump-teenth time, rattling off a checklist of hunting supplies.

  "Witch-killing bullets?"

  "Yes."

  "Hex bags?"

  "Of course."

  "Flamethrower?"

  "In the car."

  "Holy water? Rock salt?"

  "Yes and yes. Jody, I've gotta-"

  "I love you."

  She sighs, opening the driver's side door. "Love you, too."

  Patience waves from the doorway of the house, "Talk to you guys, soon!" 

  Claire waves back. Jody steps away as Alex gives the blond a pat on the shoulder. 

  "Gonna miss me?" Claire asks.

  "Maybe." Alex gives a lopsided smile, "Just don't get killed. It wouldn't be fair to Patience to have to cover all your chores."

  "Like she does them in the first place." Jody calls as she makes her way back inside.

  Still smirking, Alex gives her a single, brief hug. "Seriously, stay safe."

  "You, too."

  She enters the car, shuts the door, and lets out a breath. "Alright. First place is 30 miles West, right?" 

  "Yep." Castiel replies, setting his phone up on the dashboard, where it's displaying the GPS app, and their current location.

  Claire raises a brow. "You fell from the sky. How the fuck is your phone in one piece?"

  Castiel lightly taps the screen twice with a blunt fingernail, "Shatterproof glass."

  The blond rolls her eyes as she starts the car, "Fuck off."

  He laughs.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel and Claire set off on their journey. 
> 
> Aurora makes a move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! In this chapter, I introduce a character that uses gender-neutral pronouns, so I've done my best to write from this perspective. I apologize in advance if it's been butchered.

 

 

  It's an hour and a half into their drive, when Claire starts to get annoyed. Castiel had just spent the majority of the trip more-or-less sulking. "What's wrong?"  
 

  "The way you drive is very off-putting."

  "The hell are you talking about?"

  "You're going too slow."

  She glances at the speedometer, "I'm five miles above the speed limit!"

  "Doesn't feel like it. And, you don't seem at all concerned by that clicking noise."  
 

  "What clicking noise?"

  "The one that happens every time you turn."

  "You mean the turn signal?" she flatly asks.

  "... What's that?"

  She feels her eye begin to twitch, "I get it, you're an Angel, you don't need to drive, but come on-"

  "I drive." he says, "I have to. But, no one I've ridden with does that."

  "You mean obey traffic laws?"

  "There are laws?"

  She purses her lips, "Dean taught you how to drive, didn't he?"

  "How can you tell?"

  "Because Dean's a shit driver, too."

  He looks ready to protest when his phone rings.

  "Who is it?"

  "Patience." he answers her, and then the phone, "Hello?"

  After a few seconds of quiet, his phone pings with a notification. Saying goodbye, he hangs up the call, turning to Claire, "She says the site we're heading to has officially been ruled out.  She has sent directions from our current location to the nearest probable site."

  "Oh, gee, you mean had we waited an hour or two at Jody's, we could've avoided taking this pointless detour to the middle of-" she wordlessly gestures to the expanse of farmland on both sides of the road, "-butt-fuck nowhere."

  "That's a little uncouth."

  "And you're a little impulsive. There, I can use fancy words, too!"

  He frowns, "You don't have to be so rude."

  Her grip on the wheel tightens, as she tries to ignore the growl from her stomach, "Manners are for the weak. Now, where's this other location?"

  "Two hours north, starting from the next right turn."

  Claire looks ahead at the very long country road in front of her, no deviation in site. Her stomach growls once more, "It's gonna be awhile. Where's the closest diner?"

  "On our route, about forty-five minutes in."

  "'Kay." she looks over at him, and sees he's- pouting. Actually pouting. "You that torn up about my driving?"

  "No, I'm just bored."

  She rolls her eyes "Turn on the radio, then, I don't care. Just stop making that face." 

  "I'm not upset." he insists, as he takes the phone off the dash. Claire notices he doesn't have any headphones to plug in, and hopes whatever's in his library is at least bearable.

  The opening notes of Waterloo chime in, as Claire slowly turns to face Castiel. "ABBA?" she asks, her voice dripping with venom.

  "Yes. Something wrong?"

  "You picked one of the worst bands to ever form, that single-handily killed the movie musical, to play, and IN MY CAR." 

  "You said you didn't care what I put on! And, Mamma Mia didn't ruin the movie musical. That honor would go to 'Hello Dolly'. If anything, Mamma Mia, along with it's sequel, has actually revitalized the genre-"

  "I DON'T CARE. The music's still terrible." she pauses, "And why do you know so much about this stuff?"

  "The Angel Metatron passed on, to me, his knowledge of every book, movie, and television show he'd ever read or watched."

  Claire honestly doesn't know what to say to that. Well, maybe one thing, "So, he has shitty taste."

  Castiel shakes his head, "At the least, give the music a chance."

  With a huff, Claire quiets, as the chorus plays for a final time.

_How could I ever refuse?_  


_I feel like I win when I lose._  


_Waterloo! I was defeated, you won the war._  


_Waterloo! Promise to love you forevermore._  


_Waterloo! Couldn't escape if I wanted to._  


_Waterloo! Knowing my fate is to be with you._

  As it ends, she gives her take, "It sounds like historical fan-fiction, with Napoleon re-imagined as a needy bottom."

  "I don't know what any of those things mean."

  "Good."

  "I wonder if Sam or Dean does."

  She snorts, "Oh, I'm sure Dean does. Speaking of which, what does he think when you put this crap on?"

  "He's the one that introduced me to them."

  "Get the fuck out."

  "You want me to leave...? No, wait, that's an expression. Right?"

  "In what universe does Dean Winchester admit to listening to ABBA?"

  "This one."

  She shakes her head, "Next you'll tell me he's into boy-bands."

  "Funny enough, and this one has a bit of a story to it-"

  "Oh god, no."

  "-when Dean began what he called gaining a 'musical education',-" the man uses actual air-quotes, "-he said it was only right to cover the innovators of the genre of Pop as we know it, including ABBA. And, that if anyone, such as yourself, were to scoff at that, to remind them that The Beatles were a boy-band when they started."

  She thinks on this, "Hold on, the matching clothes, the terrible haircuts, the merchandising- holy shit, The Beatles were a boy-band."

  Castiel shrugs, "I guess so."

  "What do you mean, you 'guess so'?"

  "I'm not familiar with their work."

  Her jaw drops.

  "So," he sighs, "I will just have to take your word for it."

  Claire side-eyes him, "Are you fucking with me?"

  "No, of course not."

  "Because, you sound really sarcastic."

  "Would never dream of it."

  "So, you're telling me he had the time to teach you about ABBA, but no good bands? Are you sure he wasn't pranking you?"

  "No, and Dean's shared a great deal of music with me, in the time I've known him. In fact, just last year, he gave me a mix-tape-"

  "WHAT?" she pulls off the road, the car coming to a quick, but safe, stop.

  "I wasn't aware you were hard of hearing." he says dryly, "And was that reaction really necessary?"

  "He made you a mix-tape?"

  "Yes." he replies, slightly more annoyed.

  Claire tries to gather herself, losing her patience as well. "Of what?" she asks, tone lowered.

  "Of his favorite Led Zepelin songs."

  She feels like she's two seconds away from blowing a gasket. "Led Zepelin."

  "Yes."

  "The band that's known for writing about two things; sex and Tolkien."

  He pauses, his brows scrunching in concentration, "They do bring up Lord of the Rings quite a bit, don't they?"

  Claire wonders how someone who's been on Earth for a decade can still be so clueless. "You know what? I don't need this right now. Not while I'm driving, at least." she pulls the car back onto the road, "And don't think I'll forget, 'cause we're gonna pick this up, later." 

  "I still don't see what the problem is." he shakes his head.

  She sighs, "Whatever. Tell me what you know about this next site."

  "The town is called Clearwater." he begins, picking up his phone, as he lowers the volume on ABBA, "The surrounding counties had experienced a drought this year, but Clearwater was hit particularly hard. A portion of the town was left completely infertile."

  "The farms got screwed?"

  "Well, it's less of a farming community, and more of a residential area focused on tourism, so it's not as if the drought's hurt the local economy in any significant manner. But, it has left all vegetation to rot. So, imagine such an environment, and then this appears." he places the phone on the dashboard for her to more easily see.

  The photo came from an article in a local newspaper, the title obscured by the screen's edge. The picture was of a street corner, possibly a telephone pole, set in a small patch of grass. From the ground, several flower stalks emerged, at the ends of which were a beautiful array of buds. The petals varied in color and hue, shapes and numbers different from one to the next. All of these were at least a foot high, a couple even two feet above the ground. They were unlike any flowers Claire had seen, growing up, and she honestly couldn't name what any were called, if asked.

  "Getting the obvious question out of the way," she starts, "Do you think they were planted?"

  "Won't know until we examine them in person." he replies, "According to the article, they appeared overnight, and there's speculation they were man-made, but no confirmation."

  "What else makes this a credible lead?"

  "The paper says there were eyewitnesses to 'strange activities' throughout the night. No details, however, just more speculation." he fidgets in his seat, "It's not uncommon for media outlets to question evidence of the supernatural, and leave out information vital to a case. Even if it is obvious."

  "Heh, tell me about it."  
  


 

 

  They arrive at a diner during the start of the lunch rush, half the parking lot already crowded with vehicles, most of them eighteen-wheelers. Upon entering, the two look around for a free seat; right in front of them was a counter with a series of green-capped bar stools; To the left were little square tables, each with two seats per; On the right were booths, with matching green covers. The booths appeared to be the least crowded, but with enough lively talk to cover any mention of Witches, so that is where they sat.

  Claire and Castiel were just sitting down when a waitress arrives for their drink orders. Both request coffee, and the waitress heads back to the kitchen.

  Castiel already has his nose in the menu. After what must have been only ten seconds, he declares he'll order a cheeseburger. Claire looks up at him, not really paying attention to the other options.

  "Alright. Real talk?"

  Castiel sets aside his menu. "I'm not sure what fake talk would be, but, proceed."

  "Are you and Dean together?"

  He raises a brow, "We're clearly in two separate locations, right now-"

  "As in dating."

  "No." He coolly answers.

  "Have you two ever dated?"

  "No, and I honestly don't know why you're asking."

  Claire holds up her left hand and begins listing off, "Wall shoving is your 'thing', you know how many hours Dean sleeps, and that fucking mix-tape."

  "Why would any of those things indicate romance?" 

  Claire shakes her head; He's genuinely out of the loop. "Anyone ever tell you what making and giving a mix-tape means?"

  "I wasn't aware it meant anything, at all."

  "It's what someone does when they've got a crush. They put together a bunch of songs that mean the world to them, 'specially love songs, and then give it to their crush. Most of the time, when it's done in the movies, or on TV, it's not only shorthand for how much the gift giver loves the other person, it's also considered one of the basic romance tropes." she shrugs, "If Dean meant it to be something else, he would've said."

  Castiel squints, "So, he, according to what you've said, just assumed I knew of this custom?"

  "To be fair to Dean, most people do."

  "He knows that isn't the case with me." he frowns, "Like you said earlier, it could've just been a joke, and he's just waiting for me to understand the punchline."

  "Or," she stresses, "he didn't tell you because he's not ready to say it, yet."

  "Then why give the mix-tape in the first place?"

  "Because it's still a big step."

  The waitress comes back with their coffees. They give quiet thanks as she leaves several liquid creamers in the middle of the table. 

  Claire fixes her coffee with some sugar to taste, for once. It also gives her hands something to do, and is an excuse not to look Castiel in the eye, "Do you like him?"

  "He's family, of course I do."

  She sighs in frustration, "Do you like him, as in love him? And, no, not as family."

  "You mean romantically."

  "Yes!"

  Claire continues to add an obscene amount of sugar, before switching to creamer. After this, with Castiel still not saying a word, she focuses all her energy on stirring her drink.

  "He doesn't feel the same way."

  Claire glances up, "And how do you feel?"

  Castiel's face has never looked older, and Claire is struck by how worn down he really is. How bad it all was, before Aurora ever entered the picture.

  "Remember how I said that, as an Angel, I could sense longing?"

  "Yeah, that's how you knew about me." she mutters.

  "It's more than prayers, and not always directed at me, specifically." he says, "I-hm." a pause, "I know when someone desires to copulate."

  Claire nearly spits out her drink, "For fucks sake, spare the details."

  He continues, as if he never heard her, "When the three of us would go out, and Dean would spot an attractive patron, or steward, he would give off a particular sense of longing. At times, when around me, he would exude the same want. Only difference, though, is he would not... proposition me."

  "Well, you're not exactly some random at a bar."

  "I'm also aware," he adds, "that a biological reaction does not mean interest, or consent. Dean chooses to fornicate with others time after time, and not me. He makes a conscious effort of it, and I'm not upset at this, because we can't help the way we feel, and I do not have any delusions that he will change his mind anytime soon."

  "How long have you known?"

  "Nine years."

  Claire's eyes widen, "Wow, no wonder you're jaded. But, it still doesn't answer my first question-"

  "It is against our most Sacred Oath to lie with Humans. To show emotion leads to doubt, which leads to Falling. Copulating is a death sentence."

  "But, why? I thought that's one of the perks of telling Heaven to fuck off. And, if you're really gonna sit here and say you feel nothing at all-"

  "The combination of the two is an abomination." he says, and Claire can tell that's that.

  She wonders, after all Heaven's done, that she alone is aware of, why Castiel would remain so loyal. After all, he did say "He doesn't feel the same way." The Sacred Bullshit sounds like what it is, and that the issue goes much deeper.

  She drops it for now. Maybe she'll get more out of him, later.

 

 

  
  The patron twists the napkin in their hands, peering around the room best they can. Other people, singles, couples, families, sat at their tables, happily chatting away between bites of food. All Madeline could think of was when their phone would ring.

  "Can I get your drink order?"  
 

  They resist the urge to jump, "A water, please."

  A few scribbles, "Alright, ma'am, I'll be back in a flash!" a smile, and she's gone.

  They sit back, the cheap green pleather of the seat cracking and pinching at the patron's bare legs. Madeline hadn't had any time to change out of their clothes from the night before, and it's beginning to make them feel self conscious about choosing a pencil skirt.

  The diner is half-full, but too crowded. Too many people in this room. They can't tell if he's here. The patron digs through their purse.

  What if they were followed? It's so noisy, with all the talking, the clatter of silver ware on plates, that one baby that wouldn't shut up, the sound of chewing...

  Madeline finds the compact. Peering through the mirror under the lid, they check to see if he's behind them. There's the Men and Women's restroom, and that's it. 

  He could be there, too.

  Madeline keeps the compact open, pretending to straighten their hair, when they stop; their make-up is still smeared from last night.

  Fresh tears well behind their eyes.

  Jumping as the phone rings, a balancing act of answering the call, and wiping their mouth, ensues, "Hello?"

  "Madeline."

  "How do you know my name?" they ask, trying to regain composure.

  "I know many things."

  Madeline smiles to the waitress as she sets down the cup of water. Barely moving their lips, but clear as day, "Who the hell are you?"

  "Call me Aurora. I imagine my associate paid you a visit last night?"

  They swallow hard, "Yes." 

  "And told you of our conditions?"

  Madeline's head shakes, "I don't know what kind of sick game you're playing-"

  "Ah, but I know the one you were playing."

  Their face grows hot.

  "What would Martin say?"

  "It's been years." they croak, " I was lonely."

  "No need to worry, girl. You will see him, soon. That is, unless you do exactly as I say."

  They wipe away a stray tear, as it cuts a path down their foundation, "Why me?"

  "In this very diner, there is a man. Tall, dark,and handsome, your type."

  Madeline shuts their eyes tight, and tries to focus on anything else.

  "He wears an overcoat. Hard to miss. Follow him. Listen to what he says, what he seeks. Then await for my orders."

  "Why should I?" they open their eyes, a pulse of anger rushing through. This woman, this stranger, doesn't get to boss them around-

  Their breath hitches.

  Out the window, there is a clear view to the gas station next door. Across its parking lot, there he stands.

  Martin.

  Their skin crawls at the memory. Hands beginning to shake, Aurora's next words barely register. Madeline can't hear anything other than the beating of their own heart.

  He can see them. Martin stares right back.

  He begins to move closer, pale skin almost translucent in the sunlight. 

  "What did you do to him?" they whisper in horror.

  "All you need to know is that if you don't do as I say, you'll have to answer to him."

  He's halfway across now, unblinking in his pursuit, oblivious to the other cars around.

  More tears fall, "If I do this, you'll make him go away?"

  "Yes."

  "Then, yes."

 

 

  
  "... One double cheeseburger, and an order of fries for the gentleman, and a stack of pancakes with a side of strawberries for the young lady."

  Claire nods, "That's it."

  "I'll get your order going, and be back with y'all shortly." the waitress flashes another toothy grin, leaving the two in silence. 

  Claire thinks about Castiel's reaction to the Dean talk. She feels a little bad for going so hard on the jokes earlier, not knowing things hadn't gotten that far. It wasn't mean-spirited, it was just some light teasing, stuff that paled in comparison to the grief she'd give Alex over her latest crush.

  Really, the thought of Castiel and Dean being a thing was kinda cute. And Claire hates cute, but she'd make an exception for this.

  It was too soon to approach that topic again, so the blond tries something else.

  "So, when we find your Grace, what are you gonna do?"

  "Rejoin Sam and Dean, and continue to search for a way to rescue Jack and their mother."

  "And after that?"

  "Unseat Lucifer from Heaven's throne."

  Claire laughs. She stops when she sees Castiel's expression is unchanged, "You're joking." 

  "I'm afraid I am not."

  "The Devil?" A few nearby patrons turn at this, causing Claire to glare at them, prompting the others to go back to their meals. Voice lowered, she goes on, "How in the hell does this shit keep happening to you guys?"

  "We can't seem to kill the Devil, that's why."

  "I mean in a bigger sense. Like, who will take over when you ice Lucifer?"

  He shrugs, "I don't know. Without an Archangel, Heaven's power will run out. Ironically, the one who could destroy Heaven as we know it is the only one keeping it together."

  She leans back in her chair, "Well, that sounds like a shit sandwich."

  "It is." he agrees.

  "So, you just focus on the job 24/7, or do you chill out? I know you don't sleep, but maybe you binge Netflix, or something."

  He shakes his head, "There's no time to waste 'chilling out'. And not needing sleep only aids in research."

  "Yeah, but don't you start to feel burnt out?"

  "Angels don't feel fatigue." he says, as if it's the most obvious thing.

  "And you're no Angel, are you? Hell, you're so different after three years, that the guy I met a decade ago feels like a whole 'nother person."

  Castiel stares over at the wall, examining the photos of local farms and ranches with little interest. "Angel or not, it shouldn't affect my work ethic."

  "Unplugging now and then helps the brain, you know."

  "In what way?" he faces her once more.

  Claire pauses, "When I'm on the road, on a hunt, I take the morning out to gear up. Check info, case, supplies. I also spend a half-hour on make-up."

  He raises a brow, "That seems unnecessary."

  "Well," she sighs dramatically, "I like to feel pretty before being covered in monster guts."

  "Is it like how Sam grows his hair out, despite it giving enemies something to grab onto? And making it difficult to believe him as an FBI agent?"

  Claire brushes her own locks from her face, "You mean being fabulous?"

  "I suppose."

  "Anyway, it gives me a chunk of time to go on autopilot, and relax before a brand new day of bullshit. Maybe you should find something like that."  
 

  "I really wouldn't know where to begin." Castiel scoots more towards the center of the booth, allowing for new diners to walk by without being tripped. The area's filling up quickly, so the two lower their voices.

  "I dunno, read a book, watch a movie."

  "I used to watch a lot of movies with Dean. Haven't really had time for that since coming back, though."

  Claire can feel her eye twitch coming back, "I swear, and you actually think he's not into you."

  Out of nowhere, he asks, "Do you know how to sew?"

  She shakes her head, "Not anything beyond patching myself up, no. Any clothes get ripped, I just throw out and raid the closest thrift store."

  "I have an easy fix for that." He lifts the right lapel of his coat, showing the inside that appeared to be lined with silk. At about chest level, just a few inches away from the button, was a symbol embroidered in rust-red, "Protection spell that shields all inanimate objects on my person. Including the coat."

  "That... actually sounds really useful." she nods her head, impressed, "But, why only inanimate objects? Isn't there one to protect you, too?"

  He lowers his coat, "The symbol I currently have had to be created using a thread dyed in the blood of the user. It covers everything my Grace wouldn't automatically fix, including weapons, cell phones, and the occasional tablet. To protect other living things, though, requires a much crueler process."

  "Sacrificing virgins?"

  He nods.

  "Hm. But, uh, can you teach me the one you've got now? I've got this leather jacket I really like, and- did you say cell phones?"

  Castiel attempts to hide his widening smile, "In fact I did."

  "Why didn't you just tell me that, earlier?"

  His face starts to break out into a wide grin, as realization dawns on Claire.

  "Whatever you're thinking, don't say it."

  "I didn't mention it earlier, because I only felt like telling you the story, now. One might even say I-"

  "Don't."

  "-spun a yarn." 

  "Oh, good god." 

  Castiel continues to chuckle at something that just isn't _that funny_.

  Claire holds onto her coffee for dear life, "You are way too proud of that."

  After a few more minutes, the waitress arrives with their food. She sets the table, and leaves the two alone once more.

  "I read up on Clearwater some more, if you wish to hear."

  "Sure." Claire drenches her pancakes in syrup.

  "It's a small town of barely five-thousand, with a decent college nearby." he eats fries between each sentence, "The college has an agriculture program that's very popular, considering all the farms in the surrounding counties. They have a very impressive botany program, too."

  "This have to do with those flowers?" she wipes her mouth, "Maybe a student planted them?"

  "Won't know until we see it in person."

  "Question is, why would someone do that?" Claire sips her coffee, "It looked like the site was public property, so they'd need the town's permission to put it there, right? So, that part would've been mentioned in the article."

  "It wasn't, so it might have been done illegally." Castiel takes a bite of his burger, causing him to make a face that Claire chooses to ignore. "I've missed red meat, so much." he sighs, stuffing his face.

  "Think it might've been a prank?" she asks, picking one of the smaller strawberries, "Those flowers seemed really exotic, though. Kinda expensive for some dumb-college-initiation bull-shit."

  Castiel ignores her theory, and continues to devour his burger in an obscene manner. Grossed-out, Claire gets up, "I'll be back."

  "You're not getting the bill? I have no money, remember!"

  "I'm coming back, I'm just taking a piss." she makes her way to the other side of the diner, to where she saw the WOMEN'S sign earlier. 

  There's a crash behind her, and Claire turns to see one patron apologizing to the other.

  "I didn't see your foot-" the man is interrupted. 

  "It's no trouble." the woman replies, patting down her soaked blouse with a napkin, "A little water never hurt anyone."

  Claire doesn't think much of it, and heads for the restroom.

  A few minutes later, Castiel has finished his own meal, and is eyeing Claire's mostly-eaten plate of pancakes.

  "Where's the check?" Claire walks up, pulling out her wallet. 

  "The waitress just dropped it off." he replies, passing her the receipt, "You gonna finish that?"

She slides the last wedge of pancake across the table, "Nah, I'm ready to head out." 

Practically inhaling it, Castiel cleans the plate, "Right, let's go!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, again! Thank you for reading!  
> So, I wanna cover something real quick.  
> Madeline in this was initially written to use she/her pronouns, and I changed it to they/them/their after everything else involving them was written.  
> Any grammatical errors in this area is a result of that edit.  
> Leave a kudos, a comment, some profanity, tell me how your day was, whatever you feel like. ♥


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Claire arrive in Clearwater. Turns out we have a mini-case!   
> We catch up with Patience. :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. *points to the tags* this is your reminder that the Graphic Depictions Of Violence tag is used here, and has been there since day one.
> 
> I only say this now, because there's a bit at the end of this chapter, and I actually feel a bit bad.
> 
> Mind you, I wouldn't torture the multiple cinnamon rolls if I didn't think they could take it.

 

 

 

  After lunch, both Castiel and Claire were in noticeably better moods. Claire didn't even complain (that much) about Castiel blasting (quietly playing) ABBA. The two fall into a comfortable silence for the last half-hour of the trip.

 

 

  
  It's around one in the afternoon when they reach Clearwater's city limits. It's such a shock to see civilazation after miles of country road, that Claire has to blink a few times to convince herself it's real. She's spent so much of the past few years hunting on her own, but she still wasn't used to all of the driving. It just reminded her of how tired being in a car made her, and how the only time she went on trips of this length in the past was when one of her parents was driving.

  She blinks the memory away. No point getting sentimental, not when there's an address to keep an eye out for. "Hey." she looks over to Castiel, who's stirring from his nap.

  "We're here?"

  "Yeah." she nods, "What's the exact street we're looking for?"

  Castiel proceeds to pause the music, and un-mute the GPS AI.

  "Turn right in a quarter mile."

  "Alright." Claire stretches her neck, looking forward to getting out of the car.

  She tries to focus on the directions, but is constantly distracted by the buildings on either side of the street; the condition of them is fine, it's the surrounding grass and trees that concern her. The branches were bare and dry, and the grass brown and patchy. This continues on, as they reach the residential area.

  Claire can feel the low pang of a headache coming on. She reaches for her water bottle, thinking it being the onset of dehydration. 

  "Up here." Castiel says, rubbing his temples.

  "Oh, my God." Claire breathes. It was so much worse here than anywhere else, so far. In place of grass was simply dirt, meaning all the front lawns as far as she could see were just dead. Her headache is getting worse. "When we stop, I'm gonna need some aspirin." she mutters.

  "Your head hurting, too?"

  She pulls up next to the only patch of green around, recognizing the flowers from the photo, "Yeah. Think I need some water. Or, it's about to rain. I dunno..."

  "I've got a headache, too." he says.

  She turns to him, noticing the lines of concern on his face, "Is that a problem?"

  "I don't know."

  She forces a laugh, "You make that sound really fuckin' ominous."

  His features relax. He shrugs, "My apologies. It's a habit I picked up from my siblings."

  "He's got jokes for days." she rolls her eyes, putting the car in park, and steps out.

  The first thing she notices is the silence. There are cars passing by, yes, but there is no nature.

  Castiel seems to catch on, too, "I don't hear any birds. If there were any dogs nearby, they should be alerting their owners to our presence."

  "Are there any animals around?" she wonders.

  "I don't know, but it's important to take note of it."

  Castiel walks over to the flowers as Claire pops a few pain killers. "They're natural, but were planted." he says after a few seconds, "Even the soil was transferred from another location."

  "So, not a miracle?"

  He shakes his head, "Miracles are another thing, entirely. This is just not a landing site of Fallen Grace." 

  "Alright, let's head out. We can get the next site from Patience once we leave town."

  "Claire, wait! We can't leave yet."

  She turns, head still throbbing, and becoming impatient, "Why? Your Grace isn't here."

  "But something strange is." he gestures to the fucked landscape, as if Claire missed it the first time around, "So far, we know that the land around here is dying. You and I both started having headaches as soon as we arrived. Neither of us can find any immediate signs of life."

  "Alright," Claire mumbles, spotting a few residents emerge from nearby houses, "we'll call in someone else to come take a look."

  "It's not that simple." he insists. 

  "Can I help you?"

  Claire and Castiel both turn, searching for the voice. The flower bed is at the corner of a house, and across the street from this, a woman stands, an old, picket fence between herself and the other two. They walk over to meet her.

  "Hello, ma'am."Castiel flashes a badge that was hidden in one of his lapel pockets, "I'm Agent Cook, this is Agent Clifford," Castiel gestures to Claire, "Trainee."

  Claire resists the urge to roll her eyes as Castiel's 'disclaimer' seems to satisfy the older woman.

  The woman appears to be in her sixties, Native American, and with an amputated right foot. She stares back at them with the sort of scrutiny that only a school teacher could possess.

  "What are you doing here, Agents?" she leans over the fence, distributing her weight more evenly. Her hooked cane rests on the fence, just to the right of her hand.

  "We're visiting from Sioux Falls. Passing by, really. However, the events this town has experienced over the past several months has raised a few concerns."

  Claire suppresses a groan; it looks like they'll be sticking around. She puts on her Fed voice, "Naturally, the current state of the environment must have been reported." she looks the woman in the eye, "Has anyone come out to investigate?"

  "Outside of you two?" she shakes her head. 

  "Could you tell us more?" Castiel asks.

  "Can I see those badges again?"

  Castiel displays his. The woman doesn't take her eyes off Claire, who hadn't shown her badge, yet.

  "I have to get my credentials." Claire purses her lips, back-tracking to the car.

  "Newbies." she hears Castiel say, "Am I right?"

  "Pardon me, but we were supposed to just be passing through." she sifts through the glove box, looking for an ID with a signature that slightly resembles the surname 'Clifford'. 

  Going for Clifton, Claire joins the other two, as they head inside.

 

 

  
  "Name's Jasmin." she offers the two a can of Sprite each, taking a seat in an old, beat-up recliner across from them. Claire and Castiel are seated in folding chairs, the living room completely devoid of any other chairs. It was truly a single-person home.

  "Nice to meet you, ma'am." Claire accepts her offer, taking the can between her hands. Castiel does the same, popping and downing half of his before Claire can get her's open. She stares at him, wondering where the hell his manners went.

  Pushing forward, Claire starts things off, "I know it seems a bit irrelevant, compared to everything else, but those flowers out there, where did they come from?"

  "It's a memorial-marker." Jasmin answers, sipping her own drink, "There was this terrible accident a month ago, involving a couple of kids. One of 'em died. The other went missing."

  "How tragic." Castiel says in complete earnest, "Was the memorial set up by their family?"

  "Probably not." she answers, "From what I heard, they were students at the local college, studying agriculture. It was most likely done by a classmate."

  Claire can practically see the gears turning in Castiel's mind, making mental notes left, right and center. She decides to cut to the chase, "We noticed that the area is otherwise barren."

  "Yeah, they were better-off buying those plastic flowers, to be honest." Jasmin sighs, "Those things'll be dead before the week's out."

  "We learned that the drought was particularly bad for this city, and hasn't really left." Castiel adds.

  "It's been this way for months, now." she confirms, "Nothing grows, everyone's lawns are ugly as shit, and the mayor doesn't give a fuck."

  "Would you say the mayor has done nothing, or not enough-?"

  "I'm saying he doesn't care if it's got nothin' to do with tourism." she spits, "Those motherfuckers will do everything under the goddamn sun to cater to strangers, and not give a crow's watery turd about his citizens. Fuck 'em."

  Claire, who's used to cursing, and does so like a sailor, can feel her face burn at Jasmin's words. The tension in the room had thickened so much, she could cut it with a butter-knife.

  "Has anyone filed a formal complaint to the state?" Casitel asks.

  "Yeah, several. They've done fuck-all, too."

  The Hunters look at one another, Claire speaking first, "Maybe it was determined to be out of their control-"

  "Oh, there's plenty of shitty things here that they've had complete control over." 

  "By all means-"

  "That bar, just down the street." She points to the wall on her right, which was in the opposite direction the memorial was in, "Selling alcohol this close to a residential area. There are kids, here, that go to school, and are kept up most nights by random drunks going up and down the sidewalk, screaming their heads off. And, guess who'd be ignorant enough to go drinking near a neighborhood like this?"

  Claire takes a shot in the dark, "...Tourists?"

  "Abso-fuckin'-lutely."

  The blond draws in a deep breath, mind racing. "May I use your bathroom? It's been a long trip here."

  "Down the hall, last door on the right. And don't take too long. I know cops use the crapper as an excuse to go through people's stuff."

  Claire hides a smile, "Yes, ma'am."

 

 

 

  Castiel is left with Jasmin, not knowing what else to say. It appears that if the Mayor of Clearwater is so concerned with the mine rather than his citizens, it was obvious where they needed to go, next.

  "Can you recall anything of note happening to the mine?" he asks, "To further show the city's biases towards it."

  "Well, there was a collapse in one of the tunnels." she replies, "They got on to cleaning that up so quick, they had the balls to say it never happened in the first place."

  "There was no record of it? An incident report, maybe?"

  "Nope. It all happened in the mountain, so no one could see, 'cept for the miners, themselves."

  "Maybe it was very small, and the event blown way out of proportion-"

  "It made a big fuckin' noise! Whole bunch of debris was seen spillin' out the entrance, afterwards, but no one got video or photos of it."

  "And it was fully functional, afterwards?"

  "The very next day."

  Castiel sits back in his seat, considering the possibility of a Demonic deal. The city greatly relies on tourism for their economy, and Castiel has heard people make deals on less. Now, it was just a matter of who would strike such a deal. He could summon a Demon, himself, but, without his powers, it would be very risky. The person with the most to lose would probably be the mayor, and Castiel wasn't sure he could lie his way into getting close to him. He'd already established himself as an FBI agent, and couldn't have conflicting reports of his identity, so he'd have to stick with it. But, what if it wasn't the mayor? What if it was someone who worked at the mine? What if it was the owner of the mine?

  "Does the city own the mine, or is it privately owned?" he asks.

  "Family owned." Jasmin says, eyes narrowing, "You alright? You kinda spaced out."

  "It's this damn headache." Castiel says, rubbing his temples, not sure it would help any, he'd just seen Dean handle many of his headaches this way. Then again, that was when he was hungover.

  Jasmin nods, "Pressure change. That's what's got you."

  "You feel it, too?"

  "For months, now. That drought fucked us all up like nothin' else."

  "'Us?'"

  "Yeah, most people I know 'round here get 'em, too."

  That doesn't sound like any Demonic deal Castiel's ever heard of.

  He stares down at the ground, and before he can think better of it, says, "If you don't mind my asking, what happened to your foot?"

  "I was an army nurse. Lost it to a bacterial infection that threatened to spread to my heart." She settles further into her seat, "Most people are disappointed when they hear it wasn't to something in battle."

  "It doesn't lessen the sacrifice."

  She scoffs, "You'd be surprised. Did you serve?"

  Castiel thinks, "I did, in a way. But, I was a soldier."

  "Mm-hm. You got that look. You also seemed upset at the mention of those kids."

  "It's tragic to see anyone's life cut short like that. And... you didn't seem to care." 

  Jasmin takes a moment to look at Castiel, then rolls her shoulders, "On that night, when the crash woke most of us up, the car was ablaze. People were just standing around on their phones. Honestly, it only takes one person to call 911, everyone else just holds up the line. Me? I saw a car that could explode at any moment. I spent my time yelling at my neighbors to move back down the block.

  "The crash was bad enough that anyone inside must've been dead before the fire broke out. There's no helping them. It's the living you gotta look out for." she meets his eyes, "As a soldier, you should know that."

  "I do." his voice is not much higher than a whisper, "I just... have come to value Human life more, in recent years. I'm- different, from when I served."

  She nods, "We all are." 

  "The kid who went missing, are there any ideas on what happened there?"

  She digs through a pile of newspapers, handing one over to Castiel. It was dated for the previous Sunday. "Go to the obits, you'll find his there."

  Castiel does as much, and finds the obituary for one Bryan Ford. 

  "Police reached out to all nearby hospitals and morgues with his description. It'd been three weeks. As I said, the wreck was so bad, no one should've survived."

  "But, they didn't find his body."

  Jasmin shakes her head, "It's cold, but shit happens. If he lived right afterwards..."

  "... He wouldn't have lasted long." Castiel suppresses a sigh. He sees in the article, a bit further down, the Fords pay tribute to the driver of the car, Caryn Jones. "The memorial is beautiful."

  "Hm."

  Claire re-enters the room, "We ready to head out?" she asks Castiel.

  "It would seem so." he gets up, and shakes Jasmin's hand, "I thank you for your time, and for answering all of our questions."

  "You can thank me by getting someone out here to fix this shit." 

  He gives the smallest of smiles, "I'll do my best."

  The two head out a few minutes after bidding Jasmin goodbye. Castiel's headache grows worse, and as they reach the car, he asks Claire where she left the painkillers.

  "Glovebox." she answers, as she gets behind the wheel. 

  He rummages around in vain, "It's not here."

  "Sorry, check the back."

  Castiel turns around, spotting the first aid kit tucked in the corner behind his seat. He grabs the pills he needs, and looks at the growing pile of junk that's taken over the rest of the car.

  "When are you going to clean out this car?"

  "What are you, my Mom?"

  He swallows the medication, twisting back into his seat, "There are baskets of clothes back here, Claire."

  "They're clean."

  "That's not the point. Don't you have luggage for them?"

  "I have the car."

  "And your room, back in Sioux Falls? Does it look like this?"

  "God, you're worse than Jody." she grumbles, "On to more important shit, where to, now?"

  "The mine sounds like a lead."

  "But, what do you think of this place, overall?"

  He shifts in his seat, "Everything feels weird. It's so alien."

  "Is that a Human thing? Changing species has gotta make everything feel off."

  "Maybe. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but, I think it's a good idea to go with my gut."

  She turns to him, "And what does your gut say?"

  He pauses, not wanting to sound over-dramatic, "I don't know."

 

 

 

  First thing Castiel does when they leave the neighborhood is look for a motel. He knows most places wil accept check-ins as early as two, and he doesn't want to chance being stuck in the car for the night.

  Naturally, he doesn't say this out loud to Claire, as she's the one who'll be paying for the room.  
 

  Once a room is secured for the night, the two grab a brochure for the mine from the lobby, and follow it's enlarged map to Clearwater's most lucrative attraction.

 

 

 

  Castiel's initial impression of the mine and museum is that the city certainly spared no expense; the main building, surely containing many artifacts and tools relating to the trade, stands before them, comprised entirely of wood, and at least two stories tall. Far to the right, the mine entrance was visible from the base of a mountain, closed off to the general public with barbed wire fence.

  The parking lot is surprisingly crowded, with a dozen cars crowding towards the front. Claire parks her car at the very back, away from any other vehicles.

  They head inside, as a few families make their way out the door. There is a large flat screen on the wall behind the front desk, showing that the next tour would begin at the top of the hour. It's a few minutes before three, still, so Castiel thinks he can still get the employee's attention.

  "So, what's the plan?" Claire asks.

  "First of all, did you see the map we got from the motel?" Castiel had brought said paper with him from the car, and unfolds it for her to see.

  "Yeah, how do you think we got here?" she snarks.

  "One, it lists the mine's sponsors on the back of the map." he turns it over, displaying the logo for the city of Clearwater, a handful of local restaurants, the name of the motel they were staying at, and the name Arable's Bar.

  "That the bar everyone's bitching about?"

  "Not only that, but look at the map."

  She glances at the paper, "Are those directions to Arable's?"

  "Yes, and if you'll notice, the route by-passes the residential area, without marking it as such for travelers to see."

  She frowns, "Right, let's ask around."

  "I want to see if we can get a hold of the owner." Castiel says, "This mine is supposed to be family-owned, and there may be a Demon-deal in place."

  She nods, "Makes sense."

  The two approach the front desk. A tired employee in their mid-twenties turns toward them, quickly flashing a forced smile, "Welcome to the historic Clearwater Mine! Are you here for the tour?"

  "Not really." Castiel answers, reaching for his badge. Showing it to the employee, whose smile leaves as fast as it arrived, he says, "Is there a manager to speak to? We just have some routine questions."

  "Yes, I'll go get her." they vanish behind a door labeled 'Staff Only', with a more official woman soon taking their place. 

  "Can I help you?" she asks, eyes glancing to where Castiel's badge lay face-down on the counter.

  Both he and Claire show their IDs this time, "Agents Cook and Clifford. We were just passing through when some things caught our eye." Castiel explains, "We're concerned about the current drought, and it's potential safety hazards on public buildings, such as this."

  The manager visibly relaxes, "Oh. Well, we just got our yearly inspection a couple months ago. But, thank you for coming by-"

  "My apologies, it didn't come up in our records." he bows his head a little, ""We received reports of strange occurrences, and came out to investigate, but if you say it's up to inspection-"

  The woman's eyes widen, "Strange occurrences?" she echos.

  "Yes," Claire confirms, "But, I'm sure it's nothing."

  The woman grows paler by the moment, "No, please, ask away. This mine, it's everything to my family. They would be devastated if something were wrong with it."

  The woman leads them to the staff room, "My name's Marcia Rey. I took over the mine from my parents, who changed it from Rey's Historic Mine to what it is, today." she gives a smile that's disturbingly similar to the one the previous employee wore.

  "So, the incident in the mine, earlier this year," Castiel starts, doing his best to remain engaged with someone who just forces happiness, "That must have been very stressful, for you and your family."

  "We, uh, tried to keep that private," the woman says, leaning on the counter in the staff kitchen, "Guess we can't keep that from the FBI, though, right?"

  Claire gives a small nod, "True. Can't help but wonder, how did you get the mine back up and running so quickly?"

  "The city brought in this private construction company, who took care of all the repairs over-night."

  "What was the name of the company?" Castiel asks.

  "Dunno." Marcia shrugs, "City paid for it, so I never saw any paperwork."

  "The... city paid for it?" Claire says, "And you don't find that odd?"

  "Clearwater knows where its money's made." she says matter-of-factly, "Mayor said so himself, it was a show of gratitude for all the mine's done for this town. Plus, would you turn down free repairs, that'd otherwise put you hundreds of thousands of dollars in the hole?"

  "Fair enough, we'll follow up our questions with the city, then, check that everything's sorted out. You know how important paperwork can be." Castiel says. He looks over to Claire, giving the slightest nod towards the door, "With that said, I think we're done, here."

  "Before you leave," the woman continues to beam, "Sunday special on all adult tickets for our tour. At the end, you'll receive a chip for a free beverage of your choice at Arable's! I know, being on call may make that difficult, but they're open seven days a week! And, the chip may be for one-time use, but you can cash it in any time you like."

  Castiel and Claire exchange a look, "Thank you for telling us. But, we'll just be a few minutes, here." Claire says.

  "You know what?" she rummages in her apron pocket, pulling out two round chips, about the size of dollar coins, "take these anyway. A super special for civil servants."

  The woman nods, cheerily waving them off. Afterwards, the two wander off to the gift shop, which was relatively clear. Speaking low, Claire asks, "We looking into the bar, next? The city seems to be really invested in both that and the mine."

  Castiel absentmindedly sifts through the shirts on display, trying to act as touristy as he can, "We'll look at it, tomorrow. I wanna do more research, fist." Some of the shirts have sayings on them, such as 'GOLD DIGGER', 'IRON MAN', as well as several other mineral-based puns, "Everything appears to be normal, here. But, if that leaves us with the bar, then I want a better sense of what we may be dealing with." He looks up, only to see that Claire's walked away, and over towards the shot-glasses. He, too, decides to wander elsewhere.

  He comes across a crank machine, that accepts a penny, a dime, and a quarter in exchange for a pressed penny of various designs. Once Castiel's eyes land on this, he can't look away; something about it nags at him, drawing him in. 

  Of the four designs, there was a pickax buried in a slab of rock; the logo of the Clearwater Mine; the state of South Dakota highlighting Clearwater's location; and a field of flowers, with the mine entrance in the background. Castiel fishes around in his coat pockets, and then his suit pockets, and is able to find the change needed for the souvenir. He doesn't know why he needs it, he just... does.

  He picks the flower design, inserts the coins, and turns the crank. Out pops the now oval penny, with its field of flowers. He smiles, unsure why this trinket makes him happy. 

  He walks back over to Claire, showing her the souvenir, "Look what I got."

  Bored, she glances at the penny. A weird sense of recognition crosses her features, but Claire says nothing about it, "I thought you were broke."

  "I had thirty-six cents."

  "Hmph." she looks at the penny for a second more, and then turns for the exit, "I'm heading to the car. You ready to go?"

  "Yes, I am."

 

 

  
  With the information gathered, the two decided to pursue the following, separately; Claire would look into any mentions of the drought, or the bar, online, and Castiel would try to isolate where the damage began, such as near the bar, town hall, the mine, and so on.

  Castiel dropped Claire off at the motel, as he went to the local library. There he found several weather maps detailing when the drought occurred, and how it focused so intensely on Clearwater. Then, he went through public records of the damage done, and discovered that the loss of plant life appeared to emanate from the land Arable's was on, spreading out over a period of six months.

  Castiel also noted that the rifts made by Jack and Kaia happened around the same time.

  It made sense to him that the other-worldly nature of the drought, and the timeline of portals to the other universes being opened, could mean the cause of it all came from either the Bad Place, or the Apocalypse world.

  Now, it was just a matter of telling Claire.

 

 

  
  It's late when Castiel makes it back to the motel. When he enters the room, Claire's still staring at her computer screen, not paying any mind to his entrance.

  "I have a lead." he says, "Arable's is definitely involved."

  "I know, I've got some info, too." she twists the laptop around to show him, "There's been at least a dozen articles written about the drought, most of them by those kids, Bryan and Caryn."

  "Really?" he sits down at the table, across from Claire.

  "Yeah, and guess what article nearly got them kicked out of the college."

  Castiel peered at the many links bearing the students' names, "They accused the bar of illegally dumping waste."

  "They were also told to stay off the premises, which explains why they were hanging out down the street from it at three in the morning."

  "I doubt the current situation's being caused by littering, but, it is certainly coming from the bar." he nods, "Tomorrow, I want to speak with Bryan and Caryn's classmates, confirm what they were doing the night of the crash. Maybe see of they found any clues as to what's here."

  "So, what'd you find?" she asks.

  "The bar's at the center of the drought. And, the timeline matches to when Jack and the Dreamwalker Kaia opened those rifts." he explains.

  "Whoa, why are you bringing up the portals?"

  He furrows his brows, genuinely confused, "I told you, we were dealing with something not of this world."

  "No, you just said you didn't know what was going on."

  "Same thing."

  Claire frowns, "No, it isn't. I thought you were just stumped."

  "I've been around since the beginning of everything, Claire. Me not knowing the cause of something means it's not from this universe."

  Still visibly annoyed, Claire picks up her phone, "Pizza's almost here." she mutters, then she looks up, "What... what if... . You said it could be someone from the other world."

  "Or something."

  "Maybe... multiple portals?"

  "Was there any confirmation that there was only one?"

  Claire goes quiet. After a moment, she says, "Maybe the Hooded Stranger found their way here."

  "Does anything that's happening here match their M.O.?"

  "No." she simply says, "It's probably something else. From the Bad Place."

  "Or, the Apocalypse world. However, the only major differences there stem from Sam and Dean having never been born, so I'm not sure it could produce something so strange."

  "There are those creatures that came from the Bad Place. There were so many," she pauses, "Could they have all come through one portal? What if they wandered through several, in small groups?"

  Castiel shrugs, "Anything's possible."

  "Including a monster we've never seen before."

  There's a knock on the door. Claire walks over, checks through the peephole, and opens it. The delivery guy is on the other side, and, with a smile and more manners than she's used all day, she pays him, taking the food a moment later.

  She shuts the door with her foot, then slides the lock, "Found out some more details on the car crash."

  "Oh?"

  "Yep. The girl, Caryn, was decapitated. Weirder, yet, they couldn't find her head." she set the box down on the table, opening it, and taking a slice, "Police report shows they combed the area, and couldn't find anything even vaguely skull-shaped."

  "Do they know what caused such damage?"

  "Nope." she takes a bite of her supreme pizza, "M.E. report shows there were traces of smoke in her lungs, but enough internal injuries to kill her, soon after. they don't think the decapitation was the fatal blow."

  "But, it sounds like it happened after the crash." Castiel notes.

  "Like someone took it." she nods in agreement.

  "But, why?"

  "I don't know. Not for food, I don't think. And, it didn't prevent the police from identifying her."

  He grabs a slice for himself, "Maybe as a trophy?"

  She grimaces, "Serial killer from another world. Cool."

  "I wouldn't say that much. More, something that sees Humans as something to hunt. Oh my god, this pizza's so good."

  "Sure is. Not bad for local shit. I gotta wonder, where'd that Bryan kid go?" she swallows, "I don't wanna say he ditched his friend, but..."

  "No, the wreck was so bad, he wouldn't have been able to leave under his own power." he adds, "Maybe the same person who took Caryn's head took his corpse." 

  "So, why kill them in the first place? Did they cause the kids to crash? Were they trying to kill them from the start, and just royally balls it up?"

  Castiel wipes his mouth with a napkin, "To silence them, probably. Hypothetically, Caryn and Bryan were looking around when they thought no one else would be at the bar. This is supported with a previous history with Arable's. The reason why they were out that night is still pretty thin."

  "I'm sure one of their classmates will spill the beans on that."

  "Is something's living there?" he wonders aloud, "The city's wanting to ensure the bar remains a permanent fixture. Something was there in the early morning to frighten those kids, and/or take their head and corpse. Bars have sizable freezers. Could be storing their bodies in that, if they weren't eaten."

  She stares at him, "You are way too into this."

  He shrugs a single shoulder, "It's not everyday I find something I don't know." 

  Claire's phone rings. She sets down her half-eaten slice, then picks up her cell, "Hey, Patience. Hold on a sec,' she puts the phone on speaker, and sets it in the middle of the small table, "Go on."

  _"I have news on the sites."_ a very tired Patience says, _"Unfortunately, we've been unable to rule out any. And, the total number has been increased to eleven."_

  Castiel stares at the phone, calm and unblinking, "Thank you for your and Sam's hard work. It's appreciated."

  Patience falters on the other end, _"But, we haven't made any progress-"_

  "Finding more sites is progress. And, we're sure Clearwater's a bust, but there's a case here that is in urgent need of our attention."

  _"I mean, if you're sure."_

  "He is, and there's no changing his mind." Claire half-jokes.

  _"Right."_ she sighs, _"On that note, I'm gonna crash for the night. Don't get yourselves into too much trouble, alright? I don't know who'd be more worried, Dean, or Jody."_

  "We'll try." Castiel says.

 

 

  
  A while later, Claire turns in for the night. Castiel is still up, double-checking all the info they'd learned over the day. He eventually gets overheated, and peels off his overcoat. He tries to ignore the sweat stains under the armpits of his dress shirt, and gets the urge to make a call.

  He scrolls through his contacts, and stops at 'Dean'. He glances back at Claire, who's sound asleep. He doesn't want to disturb her, so he slips out the front door.

  Each room is in its own separate building, each just big enough for a desperate family, who just want a roof and a bed while on vacation. Castiel remembers Dean and Sam describing many a motel in much more colorful ways, and figures this isn't so bad. 

  It's around ten in the evening, and in a small town like this, no one's really out right now. Or, at least no tourists are. Castiel thinks back to the neighborhood, down the street from Arable's, and how lively things must be. It's Sunday night, after all.

  He looks back down at his phone, Dean's name still highlighted. He dials the number.

  Castiel's heart pounds, and he's not sure why. What is he calling the Hunter for, anyway?

  Maybe just to say goodnight.

  The call goes to voicemail.

  His heart sinks.

 

 

  
  Patience's eyes open.

  The room's dark.

  She looked down. Her clothes weren't her own. 

  She peers around the room, startled by the sight of Dean.

  She stepped toward him, and in a voice not her own, asked why he was here. She turned her back to him, and lifted a phone to her ear.

  Patience wants to turn around. Nothing feels right. The details of the room are vague, and yet distinct. Like it's a dream.

  A vision.

  She turned around, a sense of fear ran up her spine. She locked eyes with Dean, acceptance washed through her.

  She has to think quick. This was very familiar to her last vision, only, rather than being the outsider looking in, she has a front row seat. She's seeing from Castiel's point of view.

  She blinked.

  Dean had her against the wall, pinned with one hand to her throat.

  She tried fighting. He countered, fracturing her left wrist.

  Patience can't feel this, but can sense the damage done; the hesitation from Castiel.

  She blinks. 

  She sunk to the floor. She smelt blood. Fear overwhelmed her.

  Dean stood in the same spot. There was a light overhead. He turned to the door. There was something white in his hand. She wanted to scream.

  What does he want to say?

 

 

 

  Patience wakes with a scream.

  Jody rushes in first, then Alex. "Honey, what's wrong?" the former asks.  
 

  She's screaming.

  Jody wraps her arms around the teen, as Alex stands just inside the doorway, uncertain of what to do.

  She's yelling. Anger drips from her voice.

  Jody rocks them back and forth, soothing her with words too quiet to hear.

  Patience quiets, and whispers, over and over.

  "You can't... You can't..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, again!
> 
> So, I hope the end segment there wasn't too much. As I said, I wouldn't torment the characters if I thought they couldn't handle it. 
> 
> Also, considering Patience had to witness her birth father and adoptive mother's deaths in her first appearance, I think she'll survive.
> 
> However, the next chapter will touch on things such as Castiel's memories of 9X03, something else I included in the tags at the start of the fic. I'll only know how far I'll go with such content when the next chapter is written, and will make an A/N at the top of the chapter.  
> I hope you enjoyed, and leave a comment of what you thought! If you want. No pressure.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Claire get closer to the truth behind Clearwater. Patience tells about her vision, and shares something important with Claire. Dean follows up on a lead on Aurora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's been awhile! Here's an update!  
> The following chapter is one I've had to divide in two, for the purpose of pacing, and so I wouldn't lose my mind while editing.  
> So! Touchy stuff for this chapter: ...not that much, really. 9X03 is brought up, but not in too much detail. But, if there's anything you guys want me to add tag-wise, let me know!  
> Now, chapter 8.... that's gonna be a doozy. ;)  
> Enjoy!

  Claire can't sleep.

  Five hours is all she could do, before waking up from restlessness. It's not even three in the morning, but she knows there's no way she's getting back to sleep, now. Her headache's returned, but isn't as bad as before. She pops a few pain killers, then heads to the bathroom to change. After this, trying to be as quiet as she can, Claire retrieves her laptop from her bag, hoping to look into the disappearing wildlife more. After a few minutes of staring at a blank web-page, she decides it's time to get caffeinated.

  Claire hops in the car to find the local diner, thanks some nameless deity that it's open 24/7, and grabs two plain black coffees to go.

  In the car, heading back to the motel, Castiel's words from yesterday echo back to her. In the motel parking lot, she shifts to take a quick look around at all her possessions, cluttered and scattered along the floor of the car, "Maybe I do have a problem." she mumbles.

  Opening the door, she's startled to hear a scream. Resisting the urge to drop piping hot liquid at her feet, she stares at the only person in the room, Castiel. "What-?"

  He's sitting up, panting heavily, panic in his eyes. It takes him a few seconds to calm down, and register that Claire's in the doorway, "I-" he gulps, "I think I had a nightmare."

  "Hell of a nightmare." she gives a shaky laugh, closing the door behind her, "Know what it was about?"

  He doesn't answer.

  "Never mind." she says, thinking to herself, _'It probably has something to do with Hunting'_. "I got some coffee, if you wanted to nuke it, later. But, if you're not going back to sleep-"

  "I'm not." he confirms, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, "I'm going to take a shower. Do you need the bathroom?"

  "No." she replies, then notices his dress shirt is soaked in sweat, "You have a change of clothes? I can get you a souvenir shirt from the mine, if you want." she adds with a laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. It doesn't work as he simply grabs his bag from the foot of his bed.

  "Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

  Claire sighs, grabbing a cup of coffee for herself as the sound of the shower starts from behind the bathroom door. She parks herself in the chair in front of her laptop, picking up where she left off.

  The first article she finds is from a day after Kaia and Jack opened the rift. Reports of house pets attempting to escape en masse had lead to a shaky explanation of stray cats and dogs being in heat. A few days after the rift, birds are noted to purposefully fly around the city limits, and nowhere overhead. A month after, several species of mammal and fowl either disappeared, or were relegated to being indoors at all times. Local scientists, mostly those from the college, tested soil samples from fifty different sites around the city. They found no signs of reptiles, or insects.

  Claire compares these articles to pictures taken around Clearwater, at the time. She finds it very interesting that the plant life still looked healthy. Meaning, the wildlife left first, and not as a result of a depletion in food supply. She marks these pages to show Castiel when he's up to talking, again.

  Half an hour later, Castiel finally reemerges, wearing a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt. It's so shocking to see, Claire has to remind herself it's still the same person. "Feeling any better?" she asks.

  "A little." he replies, his voice dull.

  "Found out some stuff that'll be useful for the case." she offers up her seat, coaxing him to sit and read.

  Wordlessly, Castiel scans the article, "The animals left before the drought got worse?"

  "Looks like it."

  "So, we're looking at something that could've come from another universe-"

  "Oh!" she exclaims, yanking the computer away, "Found something on that, too. I almost forgot."

  "How could you forget?"

  "It was before I had my coffee." she answers, placing the laptop back in its original spot, "Descriptions of portal sightings near Clearwater from six months ago."

  Castiel looks at the roughly dozen police reports, "But no video? No photos?"

  "Apparently not, but I doubt it's a coincidence."

  He rubs his temples, "Okay. Do you have any painkillers?"

  "Yeah." she tosses him the bottle from her nightstand.

  "And is this my coffee?" he points to the container still in the cardboard cup holder.

  "Yep."

  "Bless you." he pops the pills, washing it down with the hot liquid, "For all it's worth, at least."

  "As you were saying," Claire starts, "we're _definitely_ dealing with something from the Bad Place."

  "Right." he pauses, sipping at his coffee a little more slowly, "When we went to the Apocalypse world, everything there felt different. It was more obvious as an Angel, though. Like all life possessed a unique energy, completely different from our own."

  "You think that's the same for any Universe?"

  "Almost certainly. I'd traveled to another world, years ago, where everything we are was fiction, a television show."

  Claire stares at him, "...The fuck?"

  "The energy there," he continues, oblivious to Claire's mental break, "was devoid of magic. I imagine every world has its own individual reading. Introducing it here could have long-lasting effects on natives of this world."

  "You think the animals could, what, sense this?"

  "Probably."

  She thinks, then says, "These headaches, are they a side-effect of this energy?"

  "It's a strong guess."

  "I don't understand, it didn't feel like this when we went over there to rescue Sam and Dean. And, they didn't mention anything other than having to eat lizards."

  "Well, they were there for only a few days, while whatever's from the Bad Place has been here for half a year."

  "Good point." she mutters, "That, and these headaches probably didn't start out so bad."

  Castiel nods, "True, they could've progressed more over time, with people's pain tolerance increasing as time went on."

 

 

 

  For the next few hours, Castiel and Claire worked on questions to ask the classmates of Bryan Ford and Caryn Jones. They wondered if they should approach it from a police-gathering-evidence standpoint, or something a little gentler. Maybe as fellow scientists, Castiel had suggested, but Claire wasn't sure she could convincingly pull that off. Before they could settle on an angle for questioning, Claire's phone rang.

 

 

 

  Seeing the call's from Patience, Claire puts her on speaker without hesitation, "What's up?"

  It takes a few moments for the teen to answer, _"I had another vision."_

  Claire and Castiel look up at one another, and for a split-second, she sees fear in the other's eyes, "Same as before?"

  _"Yes."_

  Castiel finally finds his voice, "Exactly the same? Or, is there anything different?" His tone's clearly shaky, and there's something about his demeanor that's off from the past few days. Claire wonders if he had dreamed of the first vision, and is now spooked to hear Patience has had another. At least, that's her best guess.

  _"I want to say both?"_ the teen sounds absolutely drained, and Claire feels her heart break for both of them, _"There were details that were new, and some that were absent in the second one. That, or I just didn't notice them."_ she sighs, _"It was... so much."_

  "Start from the beginning." Claire suggests.

  And Patience does, first describing all she saw in one basic summary. Next, she breaks down all the differences from the first vision.

  _"I was asleep for this one. And, instead of just looking from a distance, like before, I was in Castiel's place."_ she pauses, _"I don't know why a detail like that changed, but it also made me feel everything he felt."_

  Castiel pales at this, "Oh, god, Patience. I'm-"

  _"I didn't feel the attack,"_ she clarifies, _"just your emotions."_

  Castiel bites back the rest of his words, and honestly looks more distressed than before.

  _"You were surprised to see Dean."_ she continues, _"Then you had a phone in your hand, but I don't know if you were making or receiving a call. You realize something as you turn around. Again, I don't know what."_

  "Maybe that he's living out the vision." Claire replies.

  _"That could be it."_ she takes a breath, _"Castiel turned around, and a second later, Dean had him on the wall. Like, one-handed, feet dangling a foot off the ground."_

  Castiel stands up at this, and begins to pace, still silent.

  "Need a break?" Claire asks.

  He shakes his head, "No, just restless. Keep going."

  _"The vision was kinda chopped up, like I was missing a lot."_ the teen goes quiet for a moment, _"The first vision, you were wearing your suit and jacket. But this one, the clothes were different. I didn't catch on at first, but I'm certain it's you."_

  Claire stares ahead at a pacing Castiel, "For shits and giggles, do you remember what his clothes were?"

_"Um... jeans, and a green shirt. Couldn't tell what style, though."_

  He freezes in place, "Great, just... great." his shoulders slump in defeat. He goes over to the edge of his bed and sits, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

  "So," Claire continues, turning her attention to the phone, "your first theory was a bust." she sits back in her chair, "What's the new plan?"

  _"I... gotta tell you something first."_

  "Okay?" Claire raises a brow in confusion, "You sound kinda weird about it."

  _"I really should've shared it with you earlier, I just... I only told Castiel."_

  "About what?"

  _"My visions. How they precede death, and... how I think I can change them."_

  "Well, I figured you'd work on that after finding his Grace."

  _"No, I mean,"_ she sighs, _"My last series of visions, I have a theory why I got so confused figuring out what was happening to who."_

  "Really?"

  _"First Jody was in the vision, and then she called you to help rescue the Winchesters. Then my vision showed you getting killed, and after that, you brought in Kaia. Right after she died, the vision became clear."_

  It takes a few seconds for Patience's words to sink in, "Her... agreeing to go... got her killed?"

  _"I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to blame yourself, or that I was looking for excuses."_

  Something in Claire seems to break, be it her heart or whatever, she's not sure. A surge of anger washes through, "We think there were multiple rifts from the Bad Place. That something came out of there and into Clearwater."

  _"So, that's why you're both staying?"_

  "Yes, we're the only one's who can handle this." Claire's confidence in her own voice is surprising, "No matter who's behind it, we'll help this town. 

  "Is there anything else from your vision you can tell us? Maybe a clue to where all this goes down?"

  _"No idea when or where it is. There were no windows, clocks, calendars, nothing. But, I think I saw what Dean attacks him with."_

  "What?"

  _"It was something white. There was no definite shape to it. I don't know if it was a blade, or maybe a blunt object. I smelt blood afterwards, but I don't remember seeing any."_

  "Did he say anything?"

  _"No, but Castiel said,_  'You can't.' _"_

  "Just that?"

  _"No, it was more like a sentence fragment. I have no idea what the rest of it was."_

  "Know anything about that?" she turns to Castiel, who hasn't moved from his seat. Seeing she won't get an answer, Claire goes on, "Has anyone called Dean yet? Told him what we know?"

  _"Jody's doing that right now, but made it clear she's not giving away where you are."_

  "Good, because I'm thinking Castiel's not the only one in trouble."

  "He'd probably be able to trace our calls." Castiel says, rubbing his hands down his face.

  She winces, "No one says it's definitely him." 

  "I agree. I don't believe it's Dean that's trying to kill me."

  _"True. It could be Aurora, who we now know is almost certainly alive."_ Patience adds.

  He walks over, hovering over the table, but still looks a little green, "And where is Dean heading to now?"

  Claire looks up, "He was banking on her being alive the whole time, trying to draw her out."

  "And if he finds her, Aurora could end up hexing him, and mind-controlling him."

  "Telling Dean to kill you."

  "It could also be a case of possession, maybe by a Demon." he continues, "It doesn't take that much to render an anti-possession tattoo useless."

  "It could be something that looks like him." Claire adds, "Like a Shifter, or a Ghoul."

  "Did I act in any way that suggested I knew what was happening to Dean?"

  "Yeah," she chimes in, ""Was he holding an Angel blade to Dean's head, his heart, or what?"

  _"I didn't see a weapon this time."_ the teen responds, _"I don't know if it's gone entirely, or if I just got bits and pieces this time around."_

  "What about in the first vision?" Castiel says.

  _"You just held it out, like in a defensive position."_

  "I would try to subdue Dean, if I thought it was truly him." he mumbles. Castiel starts to get nervous, returning to pacing the room, once more, "We'll touch on this, later. Right now, we have a campus to visit."

  _"I-"_ Patience sighs, _"I'll keep tabs on Dean, and we'll pass on what we know."_

  "Tell him to use hex bags for protection." he adds, "And to wear anti possession charms, just in case."

  _"I will."_

  "Thanks for the update, Patience." Claire adds.

  _"No problem. Stay safe."_

  She ends the call, then turns to look back at Castiel, "I know it's early, but when do you want to head out?" she figures he'd want some time to cool down.

  "Whenever it's good for you." he simply replies.

 

 

 

  Claire spent the next few hours putting together the line of questions they were going to ask the students. During this, she checked and double checked the names of the other students of the agriculture class, its professor, assistant, and even occasional substitute, just so there wouldn't be any surprises. Castiel was outside, trying to figure out what supplies were what. Claire could understand the man's need to make sure they had everything, despite having done that before they'd left Jody's, in light of everything. She wondered, however, if Cas' change in attitude stemmed more from his nightmare than Patience's update.

  She stared out the window, as Castiel threw trash from her car into an old grocery sack, also from her car. Castiel, who ignored the potential for any civilians spotting him, drew the Angel sword, still in its sheath, from the right side of the floorboard. He turned to the window, as if he knew Claire was staring at him the whole time, and pointed to the weapon, mouthing the words, "What the hell?"

  Claire only shrugged, as Castiel gently set the blade back down, and returned to his task.

 

 

 

  It's around ten when they set off for the local college.

  It's campus is small, and barely a step up from many of the community colleges Claire applied to, all to humor Jody. The lawn with a few picnic tables strewn about, the outside bulletin board that had to have the letters changed by hand, the main building that was two stories tall, at best. It all gave Claire a weird sense of nostalgia, despite her time pursuing a higher education only having been two years before.

  As they parked at the very back row, Claire thinks about why she has this feeling of fondness; she'd been so against the idea of going to college, and ended up using it as an excuse to work cases on her own, without Jody's knowledge. If anything, she should feel guilty, for lying to the Sheriff for so long.

  They walk through the front doors, as faculty pays them no mind. Her and Castiel simply look like a child and parent, signing the former up for the new semester. Consulting an enlarged map of the grounds, pinned up on the student notice board, they find the agriculture room.

  "Second floor, room 203." Claire says aloud.

  "After you." Castiel replies, his tone lacking all enthusiasm.

  A flight of stairs later, they find the classroom they're looking for. The door is shut, but the two can see through the window, where there are a handful of people inside.

  Claire presses close to the window, searching for a particular student. Inside, there are several young adults, all at their desks, but no teacher.

  "Why don't we go in?" Castiel asks.

  "Because the guy we're looking for isn't here."

  "How can you tell that from this distance?"

  "'Cause we're looking for a red-head."

  As Claire turns back for the main hall, she catches Castiel checking the room for himself, "What, don't believe me?"

  "Doesn't hurt to double-check. Where to now?"

  "Study Hall. I think it's on the ground floor."

  "And if this student isn't there?"

  "Then we check the English class."

  "I'm assuming this student is connected to Bryan and Caryn," Castiel starts, "but what could they know?"

  "Bryan and Caryn wrote for the school paper." she explains, "This guy was their editor." 

  Surely enough, when they reached the Study Hall, which was a very small, quiet room, filled with old plywood tables, and slightly newer chairs, there was only one red-head to be seen.

  "Peter Thompson?" Claire calls. The boy looks up, the bags under his eyes prominent even from ten feet away.

  "Yes?" Peter replies, "If you have questions about the upcoming semester, take it up with the front desk."

  "We're not here about that." she takes a seat directly across from him, the table and Peter's many, many books all that's between them. Claire briefly flashes her badge, but is certain that the red-head sees it, "Agent Clifford. My partner here is Agent Cook." she gestures to Castiel, who's made his way to Peter's side, but remains standing, "We do have a few questions, though, about your friends Caryn and Bryan."

  "We weren't friends." he tiredly replies.

  "Classmates, then." she says, "We wanted to know what they were doing, in the days leading up to the crash."

  Peter gives a half-hearted shrug, "What any student does. Homework. Research."

  "Not getting enough sleep." she adds.

  "Just how it is."

  "Hm, And, you worked very closely with them."

  "I was their editor."

  Claire nods, "What did you think about the articles they wrote?"

  "You mean all those accusations against that bar?"

  Claire tries to not let her eagerness show too much, "That was certainly a series they covered... thoroughly."

  "They were obsessed." Peter says, a tinge of bitterness in his voice.

  "Well, when you wanna see something done, you have to work at it. And, between the three of us, their claims didn't seem that unfounded."

  Peter's eyes widen, "... What?"

  "They said the bar, Arable's, was illegally dumping waste that was killing the environment, setting off a chain of events that has lead to the destruction of your town's ecosystem. And," she adds, "that your local government is covering it up."

  "Look, I don't actually believe what they wrote-"

  "Of course not." she nods, "Because they got the order of events wrong."

  The boy blinks, "I- what?"

  "The animal population left first, and then the ground became infertile. Meaning, no illegal dumping occurred. However, the start of the degradation of the plants and trees, and other vegetation, began at Arabel's. But, you already knew that."

  He shakes his head, "You- you don't know that-" 

  "You read over every detail of every article your classmates wrote. Now, Bryan and Caryn got good grades, but you're the top of most of your classes. Surely details like this caught your eye."

  Peter stares at her, "I told the police everything I knew."

  "Learn anything new?" she crosses her arms, and leans back in her chair, "What were Bryan Ford and Caryn Jones doing a block away from a bar, that they were too young to enter, at three in the morning?" 

  He shakes his head once more, "You'd never believe me."

  Claire does her best to hide the growing smirk on her face, "Try us."

 

 

 

  Peter leads them to his locker, opening it after entering the combination, "A week after the wreck, this package arrived at the school, addressed to Caryn, Bryan, and myself." he takes a parcel from the top shelf, "Caryn and Bryan never told me a thing about their projects before writing them. I only find out when they lay the first draft in front of me on Monday. So, I was surprised when this package comes in, and my name's on it."

  The hallway's empty, the next period in progress. Despite this, Peter looks first over his shoulder, and then behind Castiel and Claire, who stand in front of him. He balances the parcel in one hand, and opens it with the other, "I'm not touching this thing, by the way. You're not gonna find a trace of my DNA on it, _and_ I'll let you have it _if_ you leave me out of this."

  "Deal." Claire says with ease.

  "From what I could tell, Bryan knew a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy, you get it, whose uncle works at a lab, and can test stuff for geographical origin, as well as figure out what the fuck a thing comes from." he reveals, within the piles of packing paper, what looks like a pair of short, blunt claws, "According to notes leftover from Caryn's things, she's the one who archived all their stuff, they found this on Arable's property. There were scant details as to how they acquired this claw, but I imagine it's one of the reasons they were warned by the owner to stay away. They promised not to file chargers after the first trespass, but if there were a second one, they'd call the cops."

  "I'm sorry," she interrupts, "did you say 'claw'? That doesn't look like it belongs to any animal I've ever seen."

  Peter nods, "The kicker is that it doesn't match any known species on Earth, both living and extinct."

  Claire and Castiel exchange a look.

  Peter begins to sweat, "You don't believe me, do you?"

  "Don't worry, we do." Claire says, "But why turn down the chance to be famous? You could've sold this story to anyone, make a name for yourself."

  "Are you kidding me? That's exactly what Bryan and Caryn were trying to do. It got them killed."

  "Bryan Ford's missing." she replies, unblinking, "You know something we don't, Peter?"

  "Just that the thing this claw belongs to is really massive, and is a predator species. If they found what they were looking for, I imagine it was hungry."

  Her eyes widen, "You really think that's what happened to your classmates?"

  "Yes." he answers, straight-faced.

  "It would explain the missing head." Castiel remarks dryly.

  Peter looks sick at the other man's words, "This thing also likes the cold, thrives off it, even."

  Claire lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding, "You've been very co-operative, Mr. Thompson. We'll be taking this as evi-"

  _"Take it."_ he says, shoving the parcel into her arms, "And remember: _keep me out of this._ "

 

 

 

  It's not until Claire and Castiel reach the parking lot that she breaks the silence, "So, this thing loves the cold. Which means, it must hate the heat, then." she grins, "I got just the thing for that."

  Castiel's voice is ever so slightly strained as he responds, "Yes, we now know we're dealing with a creature not of this world, and likely comes from The Bad Place. And that it has taken up residence in the local bar."

  "Which the local government has made a point to direct tourists to." she adds, "Knowing this thing needs to eat, we should check out any missing persons reports, see if any out-of-towners show up on it." she pauses at the driver's side door, "Probably should've done that first, come to think of it."

  Castiel says nothing, waiting for Claire to unlock the car.

  She shrugs at his silence, "Well, we know Bryan Ford is missing, and is probably monster chowder." she enters the car, and Castiel follows suit, "Now, the stuff in The Bad Place can get really big. Sam said that the creature the Hooded Stranger called was a giant, like a..." she snaps her fingers in thought, "A humanoid-Godzilla. About the same size, but not a lizard."

  Castiel simply buckles himself in, as Claire pulls out of the parking lot.

  "But, Peter mentioned the bar owner wanting to keep Bryan and Caryn away, but not willing to file a proper report. Meaning, they must be in on this. After all, the creature that this-" she holds up the small parcel, and then sets it back down on the dashboard, "-belongs to, is big enough that the employees have to know it's there."

  "Sounds true enough."

  "Are they from the Bad Place, too?" she wonders aloud, "Or, does this monster have intelligence?" A thought crosses her mind, and Claire hesitates. She knows it sounds crazy, and jumping to a pretty wild conclusion, but-

  "What if there's a third party? Someone who's convinced a group of Humans to take in an other-worldly beast?" Castiel asks.

  Claire stares at him for the few seconds the traffic light's red. It was like he took the words right out of her mouth.

  "The mine was repaired in an improbable amount of time, which suggests magic is at work. But, we've ruled out a Demonic deal, and can link it to the rifts being opened." he continues, "I'm not saying it's Aurora, but a witch could be involved. One that sees an opportunity to take advantage of desperate civilians, in way over their heads. Actually," he says, bitterly, "that sounds exactly like Aurora's M.O." 

  Claire feels herself deflate a little, "It does."

  Castiel looks at her, and Claire doesn't have to see his face to know he's studying her reaction, "Do you think it's something else?"

  She chews her tongue, in thought, "I think a third party's at work, too. I... also think it's more to do with The Bad Place."

  He looks very concerned now, "Please don't say the Hooded Stranger."

  Well, that only irks Claire a little, "What do you mean? Is it really that much of a stretch?"

  He pauses, "I think you're looking for something where there's nothing."

  She grips the steering wheel tighter, a memory from only a few years back, fresh in her mind, "What makes you say that?"

  Castiel at least has the decency to sound guilty, "Sheriff Mills told me that you were having trouble, a few years ago. Finding cases where there were none."

  "That wasn't for her to say." she replies, a bit surprised by the iciness in her voice.

  "You're really going to tell me that you aren't obsessed with finding your friend's killer?"

  Her heart gives a painful jolt at that, "I'm not... obsessed."

  He stares off through the window, turning completely away from Claire. 

  Both are quiet for the rest of the drive.

 

 

 

  When they reach the motel, it's still a few hours before Arable's opens. Claire resigns herself to searching the missing persons report for the area from the past six months. She finds that, before the crash that killed Caryn Jones, three people had gone missing, all of them from out of town. It's just few and far between to not raise suspicions, and Claire figures that if they had done this the moment they entered Clearwater, they still wouldn't have made the connection.

  Her current thought is that something that's used to the cold might be very sparing with its food, and not need to eat much, to begin with. If Bryan Ford really became monster fodder, then maybe the same happened with these other missing persons.

  She looks up from her laptop, and sees that Castiel is buried in his own phone, no doubt doing more research on his own. Claire feels the slightest tinge of guilt, thinking, for the third time this hour, she was a little too harsh towards him. Sure, she's still pissed at the idea that people talked about her behind her back, but it's not like Jody was wrong; Claire did have a problem. But, that was in the past, and she grew from it. And, as a Hunter, there were so very few coincidences, to ignore something that felt off could just as likely get you killed.

  They were dealing with a creature from The Bad Place. Countless portals had been opened, who knows what else got through. And the Stranger... Claire knows they were aiming their spear at her. 

  They wanted her dead.

  Kaia stopped them, and saved Claire...

  To say the Hooded Stranger wouldn't find a way to finish the job was wishful thinking.

  She glances back at Castiel, who looks so tired. In her own frustration, Claire forgot briefly that he wasn't having the easiest of times, either. The guy thinks he has a death sentence, and has barely eaten a damn thing, all day. He's also the one who's come up with the majority of theories about this town, and has hit the nail on the head, time after time.

  Maybe he's right, and Claire just wants to blame the Hooded Stranger.

  But, Claire knows herself too well, and won't admit a thing.

  Castiel's stopped looking at his phone, and has that damn penny in his hand again. Perhaps, if Claire can talk to him about it, an apology will just come tumbling out, and she won't have to think about it, too much.

  "What's up with the penny?" 

  His eyes flit up, meeting her's briefly, "It makes me happy."

  "You don't look happy." Claire silently chides herself for being such a smart-ass.

  "Well, I don't know why it makes me happy. It's a bit of a mystery."

  She squints at this, "How the fuck does any of that make sense?"

  "There's a lot I don't remember," Castiel begins, turning the oval over, again and again, "Usually has something to do with Heaven."

  "I thought it's because you're old as dirt, and can't be asked to remember everything."

  "That, too." he nods, a sad smile ghosting his lips, "The Host didn't appreciate disobedience, and would reprogram those who stepped out of line. I was a repeat offender, and have a significant amount of memories altered, or gone."

  The topic makes Claire feel itchy, and she just has to try and bring levity to it, "If something's gone altogether, how would you even notice?"

  "Sometimes they come back." he slowly replies, "I met the Angel who did it to me. After that, it was like I could see, just between the curtains, but only so much." he carefully sets the coin down on the table, "I at least hope it was a good memory."

  Claire isn't sure where it comes from, but the words spill out, "When I was a kid, my parents would take me on these trips, to museums, zoos, historical sites. Stuff that was on the educational side." she hesitates, "I wasn't a spoiled kid, and my parents weren't cheap, but they would get me souvenirs that were small, and meaningful, and wouldn't take up much room in the car." she grins, "We would get these pressed pennies, everywhere we went where available. And, I remember how stupidly excited I was when I turned the crank by myself, the first time. Like it was something I made." she chuckles, "I must have had twenty of the damn things by the time I was nine."

  "Are you saying you have a bunch of pressed pennies hidden somewhere in your car?"

  Claire laughs, "I get why you'd say that, but no. I-" she stops herself.

  "What?" he presses.

  She chews her lip, "I don't have them anymore. When my Mom left, and I was put in Foster Care, the house, it wasn't paid off." she sighs, "The bank repossessed it, and what they didn't auction off, they threw away."

  This just makes Castiel look even sadder.

  "I'm sorry," Claire tries to laugh it off, while subtly wiping a not-tear from the corner of her eye, "I was trying to think of something happy."

  "You lost everything."

  "That's not rue," she mumbles, "I have Jody, and Alex, Donna, and now Patience." she doesn't try to catch any fresh tears, "I- I have more now than ever."

  The room's starting to feel too crowded for Claire's liking, and she's got half a mind to leave, say she needs air. But, then Castiel says-

  "My nightmare this morning," he starts, stopping briefly, "It was about the last time I was Human."

  Well, shit, now she can't leave. Claire supposes it serves her right, for bringing up her own sad shit, but she didn't expect an impromptu therapy session. With some discomfort, she remains in her seat.

  Castiel doesn't notice her hesitation, as he's lost in his own thoughts, "This Angel, Metatron, tricked me. I thought we were making a spell to seal the gates of Heaven, but he was actually wanting to throw all the Angels out. He- stole, my Grace. Left me on Earth." he swallows, his eyes focused like lasers on the table's surface, "The other Angels, who were fallen, but still had their powers, blamed me, and assumed I knew how to fix it. They-" he blinks rapidly, "-did everything they could. Most wanted answers, some just wanted me dead. And I was alone. Away from Sam and Dean, with no money, no papers. I was suddenly hungry, and tired, and emotional, all of the time. Relying on the mercy of others.

  "There was this woman who was nice to me." he says, voice detached, "Let me stay the night during a storm. She revealed herself to be a Reaper the next day. Tortured me for information I didn't have, or would never give. She tried to kill me. Sam and Dean," he chokes up a little, and it almost gets to Claire, too, "they saved me. Brought me back to the Bunker, and I- I felt safe." he gives a pained smile, "But, Sam was hurt, too. And had an Angel healing him from the inside, an Angel that was lying about who he was. They believed I would find out, and told Dean to send me away." Castiel wipes a tear from his cheek, "He didn't tell me the reason why. All I knew, for too long, was that being on my own, when I was Human, almost got me killed. And, not even a few hours later, he sends me out, again.

  "And even when he came back to me, because I'd found a case, he still wouldn't tell me the truth. I thought- " he sighs, "He didn't need me, so he had no reason to speak to me. And now, all of that, is happening again." he grabs a cheap one-ply tissue from the complimentary box, "He's not said a word to me in days, and I know things are different now than they were then, but I feel like I'm stuck. Like I can't change a damn thing."

  "It'll be different." Claire finds herself saying, "We'll find your Grace. And when we meet Dean again, I'll personally kick his ass."

  Castiel chokes out a laugh, "That's not the point, Claire. He never- he would never hurt me. It's that, the way I thought and felt then, before I knew the truth, it's like I'm there all over again." he balls up his used tissue, "I'm sorry for not helping earlier, with interviewing the student. That was wrong, no matter where my head's at."

  "I got through it just fine." she says, "You'd been taking the lead on most of this, anyway, it was about time I carried my weight." she gives a small smile he can't see, "If you want, we can put off the bar until tomorrow."

  "No." he firmly says, "We're finishing this tonight."

 

 

 

  Dean pulls into the gas station, parking Baby by a pump facing away from the setting sun. On the other side of the lot, he watches as a man of medium height and build steps out of his own vehicle, and heads inside.

  Dean fills up the Impala's tank as he checks the plates of the other car; it's a Ford from maybe 2012, and the description and numbers check out for the guy he's searching for. As he thinks up his next move, the man's already heading out again, just as Dean finishes paying. 

  The man's nose is buried in his phone as he walks back to his four-door, making it that much easier for Dean to cut him off.

  "Hey buddy." Dean says, barely a foot away, as the man looks up with a hint of surprise on his face.

  "Who are you-"

  Dean roughly grabs the man right under the armpit, digging his fingers in as deeply as possible, "Jacob Hughes?"

  "Y-yes." he stammers, struggling to keep up with the Hunter's quick pace, as Dean leads him back to his Ford.

  "You know a woman named Aurora?" he asks, half-glancing at the guy's unlocked car. He throws open the back door, shoving Jacob inside.

  "And if I do?" he asks, doing his best to sound tough, "What's it to you?"

  "I've talked to a lot of people recently." Dean begins, crawling in after him, then shutting the door once more. He retrieves a hex bag from his pocket, and shows it to Jacob, "You know what this is?"

  The other man swallows, "No."

  "It's a hex bag. The Witch can't find us, or hear us, or do a god damn thing as long as I have it on me. Meaning, she won't know what you tell me."

  Jacob shakes his head, "I don't know anything-"

  "Those people I talked to said you did." Dean interrupts, a tight smile drawn across his face, "That you've worked with the bitch repeatedly."

  Hands up in defense, he replies, "She'll kill me. I don't care what tricks you have, she'll know."

  "She. Won't. Now, let me ask you," he draws out his pistol, "who are you more afraid of, right now?"

  For a few beats, Jacob simply looks on in terror, but Dean doesn't sweat it. He knows he has the guy right where he wants him.

  "Aurora tells us as little as possible, so if we get caught, it's not that much of a loss."

  "And what did she tell you?" he cocks his gun.

  "To go to a bar, and flirt with a person named Madeline. Get real cozy, and that Aurora would call me when she was satisfied." 

  "Does Madeline have a last name?"

  "Not that I know of. All I got was they went by they/them."

  Dean blinks, "What?"

  "You know, pronouns."

  He takes a deep, calming breath, and asks, "When did the Witch last talk to you?"

  "Yesterday, after I was done talking to Madeline." 

  "Did she say what she wanted with them?"

  "No, just for me to flirt, get cozy."

  "You buy the drinks?"

  "Not all."

  "Did they pay with a card?"

  "Yeah."

  Dean digs for his phone, "Type in the address of the bar."

  Jacob does so as Dean continues, "What was the last thing you two did? Did you talk about anything specific?"

  He shrugs, "I dunno, I was pretty smashed by that point, but we never left the bar."

  "Has Aurora called you?"

  "Yeah." 

  Dean's half-tempted to get the man to call her up for him, but decides against it, "Does she use a different number every time?"

  "She does."

  "And you never call her."

  "No." his eyes narrow at Dean, "How do you know so much?"

  "It's typical for someone who doesn't wanna be found. Now, how did you first get in touch with Aurora?"

  "She told me to do her a favor, or she'd kill my son."

  Dean stares at him, "You-?" a pause, "Did you know anything about Witches before all this?"

  "...No." he stares on, confused, "Should I?"

  "So, you're just a civilian?"

  Jacob raises a brow, perplexed, "What else would I be?"

  "A groupie? A low-rent Demon? Maybe a dumb-ass devil-worshiper?"

  He shakes his head, "No, I'm just a guy."

  Dean slowly lowers his gun, "And everything she's had you do... has been under duress?"

  "You actually thought I was getting anything out of this?" he shakily laughs, "I'm just happy she hasn't killed me or my boy!"

  Flicking the safety on, Dean sighs. He yanks the phone out of Jacob's hand, pockets it, and then hands him one of his business cards, "Next time she calls, you call me right after, got it? I know who you are, where you live, and how to get in touch. And," he adds, shoving Jacob's cell back in his hand, "I'm the only person that can get Aurora off your tail. Got it?"

  The man nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave a comment, kudos, whatever, and I'll see y'all next time!!


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